


Logan Delos Oneshots

by Obscurilicious



Category: Westworld (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2019-08-25 14:36:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 85,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obscurilicious/pseuds/Obscurilicious





	1. Seal the Deal

Logan had been… different…since his last trip to Westworld. He and William had gone together as a sort of bachelor party/male bonding thing and their dynamic was completely changed. Logan had also returned with a fine scar on his left cheek and a terrible sunburn. He had spent a few days in the hospital being treated for dehydration and sun poisoning.

He had also lost some of his swagger. Before this last trip, Logan had put the ‘cock’ in cocky. And honey, you definitely had first-hand knowledge. Logan was blessed with a body made for sin and knew exactly how to use it. You had been hooking up for a few years now and you were each other’s arms candy when the situation called for a plus one. While he had made it clear that he didn’t want a relationship, you had become good friends. You knew it wasn’t anywhere near exclusive for him, but you didn’t have time to vet another lover.

And to be honest, you really didn’t want one. Pointless as it was, you had feelings for Logan. You knew he would never settle down and ‘monogamy’ wasn’t even in his vocabulary, but you couldn’t help but care for him. Those times when he let his natural humor out, when you saw the real smile that scrunched his nose, or when you saw him take the time to instruct an employee who made a mistake rather than just chew them out – those times you saw the real Logan, and in those moments he was utterly irresistible.

At this moment, standing in his office doorway and watching him stare out the window like he was a million miles away, you were worried for him. Normally Logan heard someone approach his office from fifty paces, and you had been observing his daydreaming for over a minute.

“Hey,” you said softly, concern increased as you saw him jump a little.

Logan cleared his throat and said, “Hi, Y/N. What can I do for you?”

You stepped into his office and closed the door, then went and sat down across from Logan in one of his visitor’s chairs. When he didn’t look at your legs when you crossed them, you knew something was very wrong. Logan loved everything about your legs, from the way you walked to the way you wrapped them around his waist, and he normally could keep neither his eyes nor his hands from them.

“What’s going on with you, Logan?” you asked gently.

“Dunno what you mean, babe,” he said with his usual smirk. Yet, the self-assured gleam that usually shone from his eyes with the smirk was missing.

“You might be able to fool others with that bullshit,  _babe,_  but I know you a little better than that.”

Logan gave you a long look, then picked up his desk phone and told his assistant to clear both of your calendars for the rest of the day. After he hung up you said, “Logan, I have work to do, I can’t just take off…”

He stood and walked around his desk to you, pulled you to your feet and then ran his hands down your sides and pulled your hips into his. “You wanna know what’s going on with me? I’ll tell you after I make you scream my name a dozen or so times.”

“Your place or mine?” You asked with a grin, happy to see Logan acting more like himself.

* * *

True to his word, Logan had made you scream his name in ecstasy. You had returned the favor and we’re now lying in his bed next to each other catching your breath. Logan turned to his side and looked at you for a moment until you turned to face him, caressing his cheek and kissing him gently. He pulled you closer so that you were touching from nose to toes, then slid his hand down your leg from your hip to your knee, pulling it across his legs to wrap you around him. He kissed you deeply and passionately and you melted against him.

When he pulled away, you were actually a bit dazed. “You’ve been holding out on me, Logan,” you said dreamily. “You’ve never kissed me like that before.”

“I’ve never admitted to myself that I’m in love with you before,” he responded, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear and looking down sheepishly.

“Uh…um…you…what?” you sputtered in disbelief.

“I love you. I have for a long time, I was too stupid or arrogant or something to admit it to myself.”

“Baby, what happened to you in Westworld?” you whispered.

Logan’s eyes darted down, “Quite a bit, actually. It boils down to me realizing that I have had my priorities all wrong. I’ve been living my life to in turns please or spite my father. I have screwed and boozed and snorted my way around the world.”

“You are not painting a pretty picture right now, Logan,” you said with a scowl.

Logan chuckled at that. “Yeah, but you’ve seen this picture countless times. You’ve helped me stagger up here drunk how many times? You undressed me and put me to bed. You left water and aspirin on my night stand and took a cab home.”

You laughed a little and said, “I didn’t think you remembered those times.”

“I let you think that. To acknowledge it would have meant I had to think about why you did it and how it made me feel.”

You scrunched your face in confusion, “Logan, you’ve done the same for me.”

“No, babe, every time I stayed over so I could get laid. Every single time. And that’s not all. I’ve left you after parties that you went to as a favor to me and gone back out and screwed other women.”

“Sooooooo…not sure what you’re going for here, babe. Most honest asshole ex award?”

“Ex?” Logan said as his eyebrows shot up.

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, sweet cheeks, but you are not recruiting me as a fan by pointing out all the dick moves you’ve pulled on me,” you replied, voice tinged with anger. You attempted to pull away but Logan held you fast.

“I know. But I have to tell you everything. I have to know for sure.”

“Have to know what?” you asked softly.

Logan hesitated a moment and then whispered, “I have to know if you care about me…or Delos.”

“You. Fucking. Dick,” you said, awkwardly slapping his stupid smug face.

“I know I deserve that and probably a whole lot more –” he began.

“You bet your skinny ass you do!”

“But…wait, I thought you liked my…never mind, we’ll worry about that later,” he muttered. “But I still need to know. I told you I love you. Can…can you ever love me?”

“You just told me how much you’ve used me, accused me of fucking you to get ahead at work and then told me you love me. What am I supposed to do with all this, Logan?”

“All I am asking you for is the truth.”

“You want the truth?”

“Please don’t tell me I can’t handle the truth,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

You looked at him, really looked at him. You saw the new freckles on his nose from the nasty sunburn he’d gotten, you saw the hesitance and almost fear in his eyes, you saw the determination in his jaw and the nervousness in his lower lip he was currently biting.

“I would have left Delos years ago if not for you. I hate it there. I hate your father. I hate William. The only thing that got me out of bed every day was the thought of seeing you. I adore you, Logan.”

Logan smiled genuinely and happily, and it was the special crinkle-nose smile that broke your heart and gave you life, all in the same breath. He kissed you, hard and fast and said, “Then let’s leave. I am so tired of trying to be someone that I’m not. I am tired of trying to fight off the usurpers – fuck it, let them run the kingdom. Let them kill themselves and make us rich.”

“Baby, I just need to ask you a couple questions right now,” you said slowly.

“OK,” he said with a smile, and then a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Logan, sweetie, are you high? Drunk? Being blackmailed? Replaced by a host? Under some sort of spell? Because this is so not you that it’s really fucking with my head.”

“That’s the point. It is me. And I don’t want to be an asshole to you anymore to keep you at arm’s length. I want to treat you like the amazing woman you are, how you deserve to be treated. Forever. I love you. I need you in my life and I need it to be clean. So please, be with me. Marry me. See the world with me. Be my best friend and only lover. Help me live my life.”

You still felt doubt. How could the man of your dreams possibly be offering you everything you’ve ever wanted and then some? “Logan, this is so outta the blue…”

“Take a chance on me. Take a chance  _with_  me. I promise, I will spend every day of the rest of my life making you happy. Just – take a chance. On us.”

You saw the sincerity in his eyes and knew that this Logan, this was your Logan. He was kind of an ass, but goddamn you loved him. “Yes. To all of it. Yes. I love you, too.”

You barely finished your words when his lips crashed to yours again in a searing kiss filled with love and hope and promises of the future.

Logan rolled on top of you and settled between your legs and said, “How about we seal the deal with a dozen or so more ‘Yesses’ and a few 'Logans,’ darlin?”

“Mmmmm yes, Logan.”


	2. Magnificent

 

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Logan said as he walked you to your door.

You had gone to dinner and a jazz club this evening, and had been on several other dates since you met at a fundraiser about six weeks ago. Logan was a wonderful escort, respectful and fun. He kissed you at your door and was not shy about holding your hand in public or draping his arm casually across your shoulder. By all accounts you were a cute couple and you knew you should be happy.

But, the longer you knew Logan, the more you liked him. With any other man that would be a good thing, a sign that maybe he was The One. And who knew, maybe he was The One for you – but you didn’t see a reality where you could ever be his One.

He was out of your league. You had been shocked when you had learned that he had asked a mutual acquaintance to introduce you. You didn’t think there was anything particularly spectacular about you; you were attractive but not beautiful, intelligent but not brilliant, funny but not hilarious. Yet Logan had spent the rest of the evening talking to you and asked for your number when you had said your goodbyes.

You had enjoyed your conversation but never expected to hear from him the next day, asking you to dinner. You had accepted and had a wonderful time. One date led to more and you were seeing him a few times a week and texting or talking daily.

And you had fallen for him. Hard. And that was terrifying.

“Everything OK?” he asked when you didn’t respond.

“Fine. Just a bit of a headache,” you answered.

“You should have said something, we didn’t need to go to a club!” he chided. “Now I feel bad.”

“No, don’t feel bad, Logan! It’s fine, I had fun.”

“OK,” he said with a soft smile, thumb caressing your cheek from where he held your face to kiss you goodnight. “Feel better, Y/N. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Logan.”

You went into your apartment, heart racing a bit from his kiss. It was a gentlemanly kiss, warm and lingering but not particularly…hot. There was nothing to indicate that Logan had any particular desire for you. It was tepid.

And that was a problem, because you wanted him in every way there was. He was perfection; perfectly handsome, perfectly intelligent, perfectly arrogant. Perfectly sexy. You were crazy for him and he was way out of your league.

And that wasn’t just your opinion. At a party for his work last weekend, you had been in the ladies room and overheard two women discussing you and your apparent lack of charms, entirely puzzled at your continued appearance on Logan’s arm. They had then gone on to list several women prettier than you with whom he had been connected, going so far as to speculation on the idea of blackmail.

Apparently you were so much lower on the food chain than Logan that people actually thought to ponder what dirt you were using to keep him at your side.

The sad part of it all was that you had no idea what he saw in you, either, and he had really done nothing to show that he was anywhere near as into you as you were into him.

It was time to distance yourself from Logan. You needed to protect your heart. Logan was not the type to settle down, and you couldn’t let yourself fall in love with him. That was just setting yourself up for heartbreak.

It should be fairly easy. You doubted it would take much for him to go and find someone else to attend functions with him. There was probably a line already formed somewhere, just in case.

You got ready and went to bed, allowing yourself a few tears. After all, it wasn’t every day a girl had to let The One go. You deserved a little self-pity party.

* * *

The next morning you awoke to your phone ringing. Logan’s ringtone. You didn’t answer it because karma is a bitch: you now had the headache you had fibbed about the night before.

Also, the distancing needed to start. Might as well be now. You grabbed your phone and texted him instead of calling back.

_Y: Hey. Still in bed, headache. TTYL._

_L: You OK? Need me to bring you anything?_

“Quit being nice, jerk,” you muttered aloud.

_Y: No thanks. Just need to rest, probably._

_L: OK. I’ll check on you later._

_Y: OK bye!_

You got up and were full of restless energy. You didn’t want to stop seeing Logan, but if it was inevitable that you would end up crushed, wasn’t it better to rip the band-aid off quickly, rather than the long slow pull that hurt more now as well as in the long run?

You decided to go to the gym. You had one in your building and you needed to burn off some energy and clear your head. Nothing did that like swimming laps. The water calmed you and the exercise wore you out.

You went and swam for a while and felt a bit clearer on what you needed to do. It wasn’t fair to either of you to continue seeing each other when you wanted different things. You returned to your apartment and took a shower, the softly scented shampoo and soap removing the scent of chlorine from you, but the sadness and tension from what you needed to do remained.

* * *

When you got out of the shower you picked up your phone to turn your music down and saw a missed call and text from Logan.

_L: Hey, Y/N. Wanted to see if you were feeling better. Let me know._

You sighed. He was such a great guy, why couldn’t he be attracted to you? He was in every other way perfect. But that way was pretty damned important.

_Y: Hey. I went and swam some laps and took a shower. Feel better now._

_L: You swam? With a headache? Is something bothering you?_

_Y: There is something I want to talk to you about when you have time._

_L: That’s not at all menacing._

_Y: I don’t think it will be that big of a deal to you 🙂_

_L: I was going to run some errands and swing by to see how you were doing. So I’ll be by in an hour or so. Is that OK?_

_Y: Sure, see you then._

You put on some jeans and a t-shirt, not seeing the need to look your best when you were just going to set Logan free. You figured he’d actually be grateful. After all, he wasn’t really into you. You could be replaced in a heartbeat.

There was a knock at the door a few minutes before the predicted hour. You went to the door and looked out the peephole, making sure it was Logan, and it was indeed. You took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Hi,” you said with a small smile.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in for a kiss and getting your cheek when you turned away. Frowning at your back as you walked into the living room, he said, “So what’s up?”

“Have a seat,” you said, gesturing to the sofa as you took the chair across from it.

Logan sat down gingerly, every muscle in his body taut.

“So I was thinking that I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

Logan sat back against the sofa, a look of shock on his face. “Oh..OK. Any particular reason?”

“It’s just not working out.”

“I see. Well. I guess I…will go,” he said, standing. “Ah. Bye.”

You stood and kept your poker face by sheer force of will, because a stupid, childish part of you wanted Logan to sweep you into his arms and refuse to leave your side, declare his love and ask you to marry him and bear his children. “Thanks for a really nice time.”

“Um, you’re welcome, I guess.”

You closed the door behind him and turn to lean against it, sliding down to sit on the floor and cry your eyes out.

* * *

Logan went home in a bit of a fog.

You had dumped him. He had finally found a kind, lovely woman that he genuinely cared for, thought maybe he could love, and you dumped him.

He supposed he wasn’t exactly shocked. He had known something was bothering you last night. Now he wished he had been a little more aggressive in romancing you. You obviously didn’t feel the same way about him (see: dumped) but maybe he wouldn’t have gotten in so deep before you kicked him to the curb if he had been a little more forward.

This was not something Love-’em-and-leave-’em-Logan was used to – he did the dumping. So, he did what any re-blooded American boy would do. He started drinking.

Quarter of a bottle of whiskey in, he hid his phone from himself so he wouldn’t drunk dial you.

Half a bottle in, he started cursing because he couldn’t find his phone.

Three quarters of the way through the bottle he said, “Fuck it,” and decided to get some answers. He needed more whiskey for the trip, though, since he had almost finished the bottle off, so he went to the bar and got a small bottle and went off to find you.

Luckily his doorman got a car for him as he was far too inebriated to drive. Logan sat in the back seat telling the driver how wonderful you were one minute and cursing all women the next. There was a bit of a snag when the driver didn’t know the address for “Y/N’s apartment,” but they finally figured out where your building was. The driver poured Logan out and left him in your poor doorman’s hands, then drove off muttering about how love made men stupid.

* * *

You awoke to pounding on your door. You had gone to bed at about 7:30, so when you looked at your clock and it was 9 you weren’t too concerned, but you still weren’t expecting anyone and felt shitty about losing Logan, so you were not up for company.

You went to the peephole and found a very brown, very bloodshot eye peering through at you. “Y/N! Open the door! You got some ‘splainin’ to do, Y/N!”

You gasped. Logan was back, and he appeared to be drunk off his ass – and pissed.

Without considering your attire, you unlocked and opened the door. Logan was leaning on one side of the door frame and holding on to the other, a small bottle of whiskey clutched in his other hand.

“What are you doing here, Logan?” you asked with a sigh.

“What are  _you_  doing here, huh?” he said, swaying a bit and focusing somewhere over your shoulder, eyes a bit crossed.

You chuckled. This was a new side of Logan, and goddammit, did he have to be an adorable asshole drunk?

“Come on,” you said, getting your shoulder under his and guiding his drunk ass into your apartment.

Logan leaned on you, noticing you were wearing a fairly skimpy nightgown. He ran his finger under a spaghetti strap and felt the silky feeling of your skin. “Pretty nightgown. Expecting my replacement?”

“No, Logan,” you sighed. “No one could ever replace you.”

“Ha!” he yelled self-righteously. “You just threw me away!” He flung his arm and spilled whiskey down the front of your night gown. Awesome.

“Let’s get some coffee in you,” you said as you finally got him settled on the sofa.

But Logan had other ideas and pulled you down onto the couch with him, half on his lap and nightgown twisted to be a bit more revealing than you were comfortable with. He pulled you close and smelled your hair before he kissed it. “Why’d ya dump me, Y/N? Am I bad?”

“Are you bad? No, Logan, you’re wonderful. Way too good for me. I was just giving you your freedom so you can find someone else,” you said, framing his face in your hands. “You deserve so much better than me. I promise you someday you’ll find a woman who warms your heart and makes you want to spend all your time with her and want to make love to her wherever you are and you won’t be able to keep your hands off of her. When you find her, she’ll be the luckiest girl in the world, because you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met,” you said quietly, then leaned in to gently kiss Logan.

And Logan kissed you back with all of the passion and affection that he had been hiding from you because he wanted to go slow and both of you be sure. When you pulled apart, you had a combination dazed and surprised expression on your face.

“Already had all that ‘n you dumped me,” he mumbled sadly, leaning his head back on the couch and dozing off.

“Logan? What did you say?” you asked, shaking him a bit.

“Huh?” he said, jerking awake with a little snort. “Y/N, why did you leave me?”

You sighed. He was shitfaced and you weren’t going to get him to make sense. “C’mon, you need sleep and you’re too big for my sofa,” you said as you pulled him to his feet and led him to your bedroom. You had a King size bed, so there was no reason for either of you to be uncomfortable, and you were certain he would wake up in a few hours and regret showing up at your door.

You got some ibuprofen and water into Logan before he passed out on top of your covers, then changed into a t-shirt and shorts, both for coverage and because you smelled like a distillery. Placing a bottle of water on the nightstand next to Logan and marveling how he could look both unbelievably sexy and adorably sweet passed out drunk in your bed, you shook your head and kissed him on the forehead before you turned off the light.

* * *

Logan woke up with a crashing headache. It was pitch dark, he was wearing clothes and he couldn’t find his phone. He got out of bed to go to the bathroom, autopilot kicking in to take him to answer the call of nature, then slamming into a wall and screaming, “Fuck!” as he landed on his ass from the impact.

You sat up quickly and turned on the light, confused yourself for a moment. “Logan?” you asked, realizing he was supposed to be there.

“Y/N?” he asked, surprise in his voice.

You climbed out of bed and went over to where he was sitting on the floor in pain and confusion.

“Hey,” you said, kneeling beside him. “Let’s get you on your feet.”

“Why am I here?” he asked, still half loaded and leaning heavily on you as he got to his feet unsteadily.

“You dropped by for a visit earlier and got sleepy,” you said with a smile.

He looked down at you, steadying him and leading him to the bathroom. “Why did you let me in?”

You looked up at him, surprise on your face. “You were a bit tipsy. I thought it would be better if you took a nap here.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” you answered with a sad smile. You reached the bathroom door and said, “This is where I leave you.”

Logan scoffed and said, “You did that earlier,” as he went into the bathroom and closed the door.

You frowned a bit at his tone. He sounded put out. You sat on the bed waiting for him to reappear to see whether he was going to go back to sleep or go home.

You stood when the door opened and went over to guide him back to bed if he wanted.

“I can go home if you want,” he said quietly.

“I’d feel better if you were a little steadier before you left,” you said with a smile.

“Thanks,” he said. “Is it OK if I take off my pants? They’re not too comfortable for sleep.”

“Sure,” you said, wishing he had wanted to take his pants off around you before you broke up with him. You turned away quickly when he started unzipping his jeans, not wanting him to see how thirsty you were for him.

You scampered around to your side of the bed and felt the mattress dip when Logan got in. How many times had you thought about how it would be to share a bed with him? You hiccuped a little laugh at the irony.

“Something funny?” he said, a little bitter sounding.

“Just marveling at life’s little ironies,” you whispered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Get some rest,” you said sadly, hoping that sleep took you quickly.

“No.”

“Huh?”

“I’d like a real reason,” he said quietly. “We’re here in the dark and I’ll leave in a while, but just…tell me what I did wrong and I won’t bother you again.”

“Logan, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He rolled onto his side and looked at your back, tracing a fingertip down your arm and seeing you shiver. “Then why leave me?” he whispered.

“Let it go, please,” you said, tears in your voice.

“I will in the morning, I promise,” he said, pulling you onto your back to look into your eyes. The dim light from the moon peeked into the room and set the tears in your eyes to glimmer. “Why are you crying?”

“Because I can’t have you, OK? I am crying because you’re the most amazing, wonderful, sexy man I’ve ever met and I want you and I’m not good enough for you and I can’t have you. Happy? Curiosity satisfied?” you asked, jerking your arm away from him and getting up, leaving him in your bed.

He dropped back onto the pillows and started laughing. You had broken up with him because you didn’t think he wanted you, and he had hidden his desire for you because he wanted you for more than just sex. You two made quite a pair.

You cried harder hearing his laughter. You knew he didn’t feel the same but you didn’t think he would be cruel about it. You got up and grabbed your hand bag and a jacket and left your apartment.

Logan heard the door slam and yelled, “Y/N?” He tried to get out of bed to find you and Tangled his feet in the covers, tripping and falling on his ass for the second time that night. By the time he got himself untangled and got out to the living room, you were gone. He threw open the door and looked for you, but there was no trace.

You were gone. He had royally fucked this up.

* * *

You went for a drive. The middle of the night when you were exhausted and sobbing might not have been the best time, but your ex with whom you were in love was in your bedroom laughing at you, so that didn’t seem like the place to be at the moment.

“Shit,” you said aloud, realizing that you had just admitted to yourself that you were in love with Logan. That was knowledge that you did not need, cursing yourself for examining your feelings when it was most hopeless.

You wandered aimlessly for a few hours, giving Logan plenty of time to escape your apartment and avoid an uncomfortable meeting when you went home.

The sun was up when you got to your apartment and tossed your keys in the little bowl by the door. You trudged past the living room on the way back to bed when you heard Logan clear his throat, causing you to jump about a foot.

“What the hell are you still doing here?” you said loudly.

“Waiting for you. I didn’t have my phone to call you.”

“Well I didn’t have my phone to answer it if you did. Did you want to laugh at me some more? Just fucking leave,” you said, tired, embarrassed and heartbroken. “Go, Logan.”

“No,” he said, crossing the room to gently grab your arm and turn you to face him. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Y/N, I was laughing at myself for treating you like a fucking Vestal Virgin because I wanted more with you than just a fuck, and you dumped me because you thought I didn’t want you when I see you and get hard like a teenager.”

“Logan,” you whispered weakly, “you want me?”

“Y/N, I am absolutely crazy about you. You’re smart and sweet and kind and I want you more than I can ever remember wanting a woman.”

“What?” you said, a little shocked.

Logan pulled you close and kissed your neck and whispered, “I fantasize about you constantly. I wonder how you’ll taste and how you’ll feel wrapped around me when I bury my cock deep inside you.”

You shivered at the visual his words created. “Logan, you’ve been with so many prettier, smarter…better women! I’m not good enough for you! Why would you want me?”

“Y/N,” he said, caressing your cheek. “I want you because I think you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. None of the woman I’ve been with in the past were better. There is no better woman.”

“You’ve never given me any indication that you find me sexually appealing. You’ve never even French kissed me before last night,” you said, looking down at your feet.

“I have absolutely given you the wrong  impression.” He tipped your face up to meet his mouth, hot and searching, biting your lip lightly to get you to open your mouth, his tongue gently stroking yours. Then he grabbed your hips and pulled you against him, his erection pressed against you. “But if you need proof, here you go. What do you think?”

You looked up at Logan in surprise, then got a naughty look on your face and said, “I think that could be anything. I’ll need visual confirmation to be sure.”

Logan smiled and kissed you, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom to complete your investigation. Then he planned to do a little investigating of his own.

He laid you down on your bed, then joined you, kissing you deeply as you pulled him close and ran your hands through his hair and over his back and around to his chest, pushing his shirt up to gently bite at a nipple. Logan gasped a bit in pleasure and then smiled down at you as you helped him take off his shirt. You were looking up at him with lust and something else, something gentle and  _fuck_  he was so in love you he could barely breathe.

“My God, Y/N,” he said as he took in your beauty. “You are so beautiful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Logan,” you said with a smile, then got shy again. “I love you.”

Logan’s smile lit up his face with joy. “I love you too, Y/N. You are magnificent.”


	3. Scavenger Hunt

 

Logan walked in to your condo after work. Your car wasn’t in its spot so he figured you had gotten caught up at work and would come up for air and come home before long. He usually smelled something that the housekeeper had started for dinner, though. Did you have dinner plans that he had forgotten? He thought you were going to have a quiet weekend at home.

He looked around and noticed an envelope on the dining table. Walking over, he saw that his name was scrawled on the outside in your distinctive handwriting. Curiously, Logan opened the loosely sealed note, smelling your perfume drift on the air as he pulled the paper out.

_Darling,_

_I took the afternoon off to set up a little surprise for you. If you’re as smart as you think you are, I’ll see you in a couple hours._

_Y/N_

_P.S._

_I’ll make the first clue easy. The place we met._

_I love you! Come get me. ❤️_

Logan smiled at how you managed to combine all the things he loved about you in one short note: intelligent, competitive, funny and loving. He still got a little embarrassed when he thought about that first time he had seen you at his gym and tried to be all suave and show you how to operate the equipment you were preparing to use.

“Hey, sweetheart, you need any help with that?” he had asked with his trademark smirk.

“I think I’ve got it, honeybuns, but let me know if you need a spot when you lift. Looks like you could use the upper body work,” you said with an insincere smile.

Logan’s eyebrows had shot up at your snarky comment. Not one to be put off so easily, Logan said, “Actually, yeah, come and spot me. That would be great.”

You looked at him suspiciously, but put your money where your mouth was and spotted him. He tried being a bit more human and lot less Casanova and by the end of the set you had agreed to have a post-workout smoothie together at the juice bar.

Smiling, Logan grabbed his car keys and prepared for an adventure.

* * *

Logan walked quickly into the gym, going to the front desk to ask if they had a message for him. She handed him an envelope with a smile. He thanked the girl and walked away toward the exit, opening the envelope as he went.

_Sweetheart,_

_So I guess that counts as when we met and our first date, huh? How about where we had our first kiss?_

❤️

* * *

You had chatted over your smoothies for a while longer than you had planned. He was really nice and not a pretentious dick like you had expected. You found yourself laughing at his stories and told a few of your own. You noticed the time and said you had to get home. He asked if you’d like to go out sometime.

You were somewhat reluctant to give him your number. Not because you didn’t like him but because he was too likable, too handsome, too funny, too smart – and too smooth. He would be loads of fun but not someone you could see a future with, and while you didn’t need to know that you  _would_  marry a guy to go on a date with him, you felt like you at least needed to feel like you  _could_ be with him long-term. You didn’t date for funsies, didn’t want a FWB situation and didn’t think Logan had it in him to settle down.

So when he asked you out, you initially said no. He asked for your number so he could change your mind and eventually he charmed it out of you. And then he had texted you that same night and called the next day, breaking all the rules of chill dating.

So you said you’d go out as friends and pay your own way – not on a date. Logan had agreed after a bit of bickering about him paying.

At this point, Logan had wondered if you were going to be worth his trouble. So when you met at a local pizza place (“I can’t even pick you up?”) he was pretty sure this was going to be a disaster. When he got to the place it was a hole in the wall, he shook his head and tried to think of his escape plan.

It had been amazing. You talked and laughed and ate pizza and drank beer and shared a dessert, dueling spoons over the last bite. The only hiccup came when the hostess had come over to the table four times to make sure they were enjoying their dinner and everything was OK. You had been there dozens of times over the years and she had never cared before and every time she came over she addressed all of her concern to Logan, leaning over so he had a clear view of her cleavage.

The fourth time she came over, you said, “It’s super nice of you to check on us so much. I’ll be sure to let the owner know how very… _attentive_ …you’ve been tonight.”

She shot you a frosty look and said, “Let your server know if you need anything.”

“Oh, is that how that works?” you answered with an innocent smile.

Logan chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” you asked with narrowed eyes.

“I thought this wasn’t a date?”

“Well, she doesn’t know that, does she?” you said in a grumpy tone. You were having such a good time that now you were regretting saying it wasn’t a date. Worse, you were pretty sure Logan knew that.

“Should we ask for the check before she kills you with the daggers she’s shooting with her eyes?” he asked with a smug smile.

“Yeah,” you said, a slight blush darkening your cheeks.

Logan handed the server his credit card when she delivered the bill. You started to argue when he winked and said, “You can get the next one. We can’t let the hostess think this isn’t a date, right?”

When you stood up to leave, he wrapped his arm around your waist and whispered, “Just for appearances.”

You walked past the hostess and shot her a fake smile. As long as you were keeping up appearances, might as well give it your all. You slipped your hand into the back pocket of his jeans as you walked out the door, surprising a laugh out of Logan.

“Where did you park?” Logan asked outside the restaurant. He hadn’t removed his arm from your waist and your hand was still in his back pocket. You smiled and stepped away to face him.

“I walked. I just live a couple blocks away,” you answered.

Neither of you were anxious to end the evening, so Logan said, “How about I walk you home?”

“That would be great,” you said with a smile.

* * *

You slowly walked the short distance to your building, talking and laughing. Being with Logan was easy. When he slipped his fingers around yours, you felt butterflies like a tween.

There was a small park on the way and you pulled him along the path to a gazebo. “This is one of my favorite spots. I come here to read a lot when the weather is nice,” you said, not entirely sure why you were sharing this spot with him.

“It’s nice. Peaceful,” he said quietly, reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across yours, pulling back to make sure it was OK with you. You stood on tiptoes and pressed your lips to his to show him that it was very OK.

* * *

Logan walked down the path to the gazebo where you shared your first kiss.

_Hi, Baby,_

_Remember how that hostess hit on you at the pizza place? I wanted to shank her._

_Your next clue is in the first place I had to let someone know your ass was not available. I still think you were trying to make me jealous._

This note was signed simply with a lip print. 💋

Chuckling, Logan headed to the next clue.

* * *

You had been dating for about three months. You were meeting for dinner after work and Logan got there a while before the reservation time so he went in to wait for you in the lounge.

He had truly been minding his own business when this blond with obvious fake boobs had come up to him and started hitting on him. He had swiveled his barstool to face the bar and said that he was waiting for his girlfriend and was not even trying to be polite let alone flirting back. Unfortunately for the blond, she hadn’t taken the hint from Logan, so you arrived to find her draped across him and whispering in his ear. You walked purposefully across the lounge and grabbed the blond by her ear and used it to move her away from Logan while you slid into the space she had occupied, keeping her at arm’s length while you kissed Logan hello and asked him how his day had been.

The whole time, you had been holding her ear, pinching it hard and twisting it a bit. She was wailing and trying to claw it loose while staying upright on her ridiculously high heels. Logan was trying not to laugh his ass off.

You finally asked Logan, “Friend of yours?”

“Nope. Wouldn’t leave me alone,” he answered calmly, waving his glass at the bartender for a refill. “White wine, babe?”

“Yes, thank you,” you replied with a smile. 

“Now,” you said, finally addressing your prisoner, “I couldn’t help but notice you were assaulting this gentleman. He did not look like he was enjoying your company. Do you think he was enjoying your company?”

“N-no! No, he wasn’t,” she said.

“Maybe you should apologize?” you said with a slight twist of the ear.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“And me?”

“Yes, sorry!”

You pulled her upright and said very quietly, “That’s mine. You may go now.”

As you released her ear, she scampered off, tears streaking her mascara down her cheeks.

Logan looked at you and said quietly against your ear, “I am hard as a rock. Can we go back to my place and fuck and order pizza later?”

“Yeah, I’d be insulted if we didn’t,” you said with a wink, sliding your hand down to his erection. “Unless you just wanna go to the bathroom now?”

“Fuck, I think I love you.”

* * *

Logan walked up to the maitre d’ and asked if he had a message for him. The gentleman handed Logan the envelope and Logan tipped him. He knew you probably already had but he liked this restaurant and wanted to continue to be seated promptly.

_Hey, Baby,_

_Remember you said you thought you loved me when I suggested we go to the bathroom? Where did you tell me the first time you were sure?_

_I’m absolutely sure I love you!_

Logan grinned again. Well, he really hadn’t stopped smiling since he opened the first note.

* * *

Logan was a wreck driving to his parents’ house that night. He saw no reason to inflict his father on you a moment sooner than necessary, but you wanted to meet them. He had put it off for a while but you were not the patient sort and had begun to think he was hiding you from them, not the other way around. He finally gave in and called his mother to set up dinner.

He was genuinely concerned that his father would drive you off.

It went fine at first; you were vivacious and charming, as always. You had a glass of wine while Logan had knocked back two glasses of Scotch, just standing by the decanter. You met his eyes and patted the seat next to you and he had come over to sit next to you, taking your hand and holding on for dear life.

And then it had happened. Logan’s father said, “Logan, you better hang on to this one.”

Logan had smiled stiffly and said, “Trying my best, Dad.”

“Well, we all know how good your best is, don’t we? I guess we shouldn’t get too attached,” he said with a boisterous laugh.

You looked back and forth between Logan and his father. His father looked extremely proud of his jab. Logan looked slightly nauseated. You plastered a smile on your face and said, “I’m sorry, did you just imply that Logan’s best is less than amazing? That perhaps I’m too good for him? What kind of father talks to his child that way?”

“Babe…” Logan began.

“Perhaps one who knows his son a bit better than his flavor of the month does,” he answered in a snide voice, irritated that you weren’t cowering before him. “Trust me, sweetheart, you’ll get sick of his shit before too long and you’ll drop him like a bad habit.”

You turned to Logan and said, “Baby, is there  _any_  hope at all that you’re adopted?”

And Logan laughed. “No, darling. I apologize but they are definitely my biological parents.”

“Well, I guess he passed all of his good traits on to you. He clearly didn’t keep any for himself. Ready to go?”

“Hell, yes!” Logan said happily.

You told his mother how lovely it had been to meet her and that you should have lunch together sometime if she’s in town alone. To his father you said, “Thank you for your hospitality. Also, thank you for making Logan. I think he’s perfect and I love him. I don’t understand how you don’t but it is entirely your loss. Good evening.”

You took Logan’s offered hand and left without a backward glance. You walked hand in hand to the car, asked Logan if he was OK to drive and he was. So you got in the passenger seat and rode silently for a while, holding his hand and stroking his wrist soothingly.

“Pull over up here,” you said.

Logan did as you asked and you hopped out of the car and began pacing on the shoulder of the road. Logan got out of the car and leaned against it, not quite sure what had just happened or what was going on in your head. You stopped to kick a tree a couple times. In your favorite Louboutins.

“Babe?” he asked tentatively.

You stopped your pacing but didn’t speak.

“Um are you ok?” Logan said, not quite sure what was going through your mind.

You turned to look at him, tears streaking your cheeks. Logan rushed over to you and pulled you into his arms. “Babe, why are you crying?” he asked quietly.

“That awful man raised you?”

“You’re crying because of my father?”

“He’s horrible!”

“Yeah, but you told him off. ‘Thank you for making Logan. He’s perfect and I’…wait,” he said, pulling back to look at you from arm’s length, “did you say you love me?”

Your eyes got big for a second, then darted down. “I mean…yeah, I do. I know it’s kinda soon, but…”

Logan pulled you into a kiss and then smiled and said, “I’m glad you love me.”

“Um good,” you said, really really embarrassed.

“Babe?” Logan said, kissing your neck.

“Yeah?” you sighed. He knew exactly where and how to kiss you.

“I love you, too.”

“You don’t have to say that, Logan.”

“I know,” he said. “I’ve been looking for the perfect time to tell you. It doesn’t get any more perfect than you telling my father off, babe.”

You then kissed him passionately and rubbed the front of his trousers, and then wound up with your skirt around your waist, face-down against the hood of the car.

* * *

Logan pulled over to the side of the road where you had told each other you loved each other. His cock stiffened a bit at remembering fucking you against the hood of the car. He loved how you were as ready to go at any time like he was. He got out of the car and looked around, finding your note and breathing in your perfume before pulling out the note.

_Getting closer, Love!_

_I like remembering you taking me on the hood of the car and in the bathroom at the restaurant where anyone could have caught us. But that wasn’t the first time we had sneaky public sex. Remember that fitting room?_

_Come get me, lover 😙_

* * *

Logan drove to the department store where you had been shopping when you wandered into the lingerie department. You only wanted some new panties when Logan had found a rack of the sexy stuff. He started holding up pretty much everything and saying how good it would look on you.

“Babe, this one would be so hot,” he said, holding up a black lace bustier.

“Hon, every single time I have worn anything like that it has ended up in shreds on the floor.”

“And?”

“You literally rip it off me.”

“I am not getting what you’re saying,” he said, a confused look on his face.

“If you like it so much, why do you rip it off me?” you asked, not getting what he wasn’t understanding.

“Ohhhhhhh,” he drawled, finally understanding where you weren’t connecting. He moved over to hug you from behind, rubbing his semi against your ass. “That’s part of the fun. First I see you in it, then I rip it off you and fuck you.”

You shivered and pressed your hips back into him. “I guess I didn’t realize that destroying it was part of the fun,” you whispered.

“Not the best part,” he said against your ear in a sexy growl. “The best part is that first slide into your pussy when you’re wet for me.”

You tipped your head back so your mouth was closer to his ear and said, “Like right now?”

“I think you should try the black one on,” said, grinding against your ass.

“Logan,” you groaned.

“Please,” he moaned in your ear.

You took the black bustier and a couple bras to the fitting room attendant and went in. A few minutes later you called, “Babe, can you come here and help me?”

The fitting room attendant looked at Logan suspiciously, saying, “This is the  _Ladies_  fitting room, Sir.”

Logan slipped her a wad of cash and said, “That rack of bras way over there is a mess. How about you go straighten them up?” His charming smile combined with the blatant bribe was enough to get her to leave her post. He went in and you were already wearing the bustier.

“I cannot believe you didn’t really need my help, Y/N. Was that just a ruse to get me in here?” he said mischievously.

“Get over here and fuck me, Logan,” you growled.

He took his sweet time kissing your neck and running his hands over your exposed skin. You were undoing buttons and lowering his zipper to get his raging erection out of his trousers when he turned you around, leaned you against the wall of the fitting room and ripped the panties off you, running his fingers along your soaked core.

“Beg,” he ordered.

“No,” you answered defiantly.

He pulled his fingers from your folds and you watched him lick them clean, moaning at the thought of what he could do with that tongue and those fingers.

So you sauntered over to him, bustier still pushing your breasts up and creating ridiculous cleavage, and slid your hand into his boxer briefs to stroke his cock. “Maybe you should beg, Logan.”

Logan put his hands on your shoulders, his eyes blazing with passion and telling you plainly that playtime was over. He slid his hands down to caress your breasts, then slid his fingers into the cups. Leaning forward to lightly bite a nipple that was visible through the lace, Logan began methodically destroying the bustier. It was a bit more challenging that the usual teddies you wore to bed that wound up in pieces, but he had it torn from you in a minute or so. You pulled his dripping cock out of his underwear and he lifted you up and turned to press you against the wall, then lowered you onto his cock slowly, savoring that first slide into your pussy before pulling out and then thrusting hard.

You were both so aroused that the pace was hard and fast, kissing each other to muffle the animalistic sounds you were making and to keep from drawing a crowd.

Logan could tell from your breathing and moans that you were close and he added a twist to his thrust that he knew drove you crazy, pushing you over the edge. Swallowing your cries, Logan slammed into you a few more times and spilled his passion into you. A few more lazy thrusts and you both smiled against each other’s lips.

“I guess we better go pay for that,” you said.

“Are you kidding? Look at it, it’s all torn up,” he joked, sliding you down to standing, holding each other while you caught your breath and your balance.

“Go pay for it, you bad boy,” you said, standing on tiptoes to kiss him. “I need to get dressed and then we need to go somewhere so I can clean up.”

“I kinda like the idea of you walking around the mall full of my cum,” he said with a grin.

“Of course you do. You’re a lecherous, perverted man. It’s one of your better qualities,” you said with a wink, bending over to put your panties on.

“If the saleslady works on commission, she’s about to have a very good day,” he said, zipping himself up.

“Why?” you asked as you snapped your bra.

“Because I am going to go buy the rest of that rack,” he said with a wink, stepping out of the fitting room with the scraps of the bustier.

“You’re completely shameless,” you called out.

“Yup. So are you. That’s why we’re such a perfect couple,” he called back.

You shrugged. When he’s right, he’s right.

* * *

He walked over to the fitting room where you had made that saleslady’s day and asked if you had left something. He received an envelope like the rest. He thanked the attendant and walked away to read the note, then decided to make a few purchases while he was there. He figured he was the reason you never got to wear the lingerie for very long – or more than once. He supposed he should subsidize their purchase.

After making another saleslady happy, he opened your note.

_Hello, My Love,_

_Have you enjoyed your little trip down memory lane? I know I did._

_Go to the place we first made love. I’m waiting._

Logan walked quickly to his car, the reward for his hunt within his reach.

* * *

When he reached the hotel where your friend had gotten married and all the bridesmaids had spent the weekend, he was surprisingly focused on the sweetness of the first night you had spent together.

You had been dating for almost two months. He had honestly never waited so long to get a woman into bed, yet he was OK with it. He was actually enjoying getting to know you, learning about you out of bed before getting you into one. He knew your sense of humor, what movies you liked, what books you read, that you can be nerdy but also were kind of a jock. You could beat him at basketball and he was almost a foot taller than you.

And he was cool with that. He called you Mighty Mouse and you called him Mighty Mouth because he was all talk. Then he would say something naughty about how his mouth could do plenty other than talk and you would actually blush. It was perfection.

And he was your date to your friend’s wedding. It would be weird not having a date on his arm for the better part of the evening yet not to be trolling the single ladies to try and get laid. As a bridesmaid, you would have to be up at the front of the church, sit away from him at the reception and dance with some stranger and be around for pictures and stuff. You had hesitated even to ask him, but he knew you were in the wedding and had been…pouting?

You were watching a movie together at your apartment. You preferred your cozy sofa to his sleek, leather and uncomfortable furniture.

“Logan, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting like you’re upset with me. Have I done something to make you angry?” you asked, concerned. You loved your relationship with him and didn’t want to screw it up.

Logan didn’t answer right away, as if he was choosing his words carefully. “You have that wedding next weekend.”

“Yes,” you said, not sure where he was going.

“Are you going with someone else?”

“What? No!”

“Do you not want me to go for some reason?” he said, and you thought he seemed almost… vulnerable?

“Logan, of course I want you there. I want you with me all the time.”

“Oh. OK then, I’m going. Is it black tie or will a suit do?”

“Um black tie but wait, you’ll be stuck sitting with a bunch of people you don’t know and I will have to play the happy bridesmaid for hours into the reception. I just didn’t want you to be bored out of your skull. And…” you started, trailing off when you realized what you almost said.

“And…what?”

“Well, everywhere you go, some bitch or another hits on you. Hell they do it when I’m with you! I just wasn’t sure I wanted you to be alone around the most desperate of all known predators: single women at weddings.”

“Sooo…you don’t trust me.”

“Wait…how did we get from me not liking women hitting on you to not trusting you?”

“If you trusted me you wouldn’t care about women hitting on me because you would know I wouldn’t be interested,” he said reasonably.

“So you won’t care if the groomsman I have to spend the weekend with gets handsy with me?”

“Fuck no, he better not touch you!” Logan replied without thought.

“See?” you said reasonably. “It’s not necessarily you I don’t trust. It’s the women.”

“Not necessarily.”

Realizing your mistake, you decided to play innocent and said, “Hmmm?”

“You said ‘not necessarily.’ So you don’t trust me.”

“It’s not really trust. I mean, we aren’t even exclusive so it isn’t a trust issue. We can both see other people. I just…I don’t want to see you seeing other people.”

“Are you seeing other people?” he asked, sounding extremely pissed.

“What? No! I’m just saying that logic says we could see other people. I have no idea if you are. But I don’t want you to,” you ended quietly, not meeting his eyes.

“You don’t?” he said softly.

“Hell no! But y’know, it’s not up to me if you do. Just like it’s none of your business if I do.”

“What if I want it to be my business?” Logan asked softly, leaning over almost close enough to kiss you.

“I want it to be my business,” you whispered as you closed the last small space to kiss him.

“Then…we’re ah exclusive?” Logan asked, looking adorably uncertain.

“I want you to be all mine,” you said with a smile.

“I already was, babe.”

* * *

The weekend of the wedding arrived and you were staying at the hotel to participate in a pre-wedding spa day and the rehearsal. Logan met you for the rehearsal and established that you were a couple in front of your groomsman partner, Mark. While he had no problem with PDAs in the past, he was a little over the top with kisses, hand holding and everything but making you wear a t-shirt that said 'Property of Logan.’

“Hon, what are you doing?” you said with a big smile.

“Have you seen the way Mark looks at you?”

You giggled and said, “Logan, he’s looking at you.”

“Huh?”

“Mark is gay,” you whispered. “If one of us needs to mark our territory, it’s me.”

“Oh. Hey, he’s kinda hot,” Logan said.

“Hey! You’re not playing  _either_ field, buster.”

“Right, right.”

“Jesus, Logan, have you ever been in a monogamous relationship?” you whispered.

“Let me think…no.”

“Well for future reference, exclusive applies to all genders…and phyla.”

Logan threw his head back and laughed. “Just how much of a degenerate do you think I am, Y/N?”

You smiled and said, “Just covering all my bases, darling.”

* * *

Logan dropped you at your hotel room after the rehearsal. He was dying to make love to you but he was a gentleman and kissed you goodnight. He knew you had an early morning. He also knew once he got started with you there would be no sleeping.

The next day he went to the wedding and was blown away by how beautiful you looked. You were always gorgeous, but there was a softness to you in the chiffon off the shoulder jade green dress and artfully upswept hairdo that made him feel both peaceful and possessive.

At the reception he barely had a moment to kiss you hello before you had to get back to organized bridesmaid duties. He had to watch you dance with Mark, and even though you assured him that Mark wasn’t interested in you, he still felt a bit jealous of how he got to hold you and dance with you.

As soon as you were free from your duties, though, and all of the organized pictures had been taken, you hurried to Logan’s side. He kissed you deeply and passionately, pulling a moan from you.

“What was that for, Logan?” you asked, somewhat dreamily, your arms around his neck.

“Just missed being able to touch you,” he answered with a tender smile, rubbing his hands up and down your back. “Wanna dance?”

You nodded and he led you to the dance floor. It was a slow song and you swayed against Logan, not doing much dancing but a lot of cuddling and a bit of kissing.

When the bride and groom left, you weren’t far behind. You held hands and Logan walked you to your room again. You may have made out a little in the elevator, but he was prepared to be a gentleman again.

As he saw you into your room, he kissed you and wished you sweet dreams.

You answered, “Why don’t you stay and make sure my dreams are sweet? And maybe a little naughty?”

“Oh fuck yes,” Logan said, kissing you passionately. You wrapped your arms around him and felt him give in to the ardor he had been reigning in since he met you.

You pushed his tuxedo jacket from his shoulders, untied his bow tie and started undoing button studs.

“Ugh, of course your tux shirt has studs,” you groaned. You undid the first couple and pulled his shirt and undershirt off over his head, immediately covering his chest with kisses and running your nails over his skin.

Logan groaned and turned you around so he could unzip your dress, then turned you again and drank in your beauty. You reached for the fly on his tux pants and undid them, so you were standing before each other in your underwear. He was wearing black boxer briefs that were a bit strained. You were wearing black bikini panties and a black strapless bra.

“You’re so beautiful, babe,” he said fervently.

“Logan,” you groaned. “You have no idea how much I want you.”

There were no more words necessary. After more passionate kisses, Logan undid your bra and slid your panties down your legs, kneeling before you and kissing your stomach and thighs, teasing you by kissing you near your needy core.

You had your hands buried in his thick hair, pulling him to stand before you so you could rid him of his pesky underwear. You did much the same as Logan, kissing your way down his chest to his stomach as you hooked your thumbs into the waist of his boxer briefs, slowly pulling them down to reveal his erection.

“Oh, my. That is going to be quite a mouthful, babe,” you said, then proceeded to kiss all around his cock, but not his cock, as he had teased you.

Logan ran out of patience and grabbed you and pulled you to your feet, kissing you and walking you back until your knees hit the bed. You reached behind you and pulled the blankets back and laid back on the sheets, crooking your finger at Logan to join you.

Your lovemaking was slow and gentle, both educational and pleasurable. You took note of how he groaned when you gently bit his neck, he paid attention to how you gasped when he ran his fingers lightly down your ribs and across your stomach.

You explored the planes of his body and rubbed your nose in his chest hair, he discovered the hills and valleys of your body and had you writhing when his fingers entered the warmth of your core. When he finally rolled on top of you to slide into you, you were so aroused that you were nearly breathless. Logan was shaking with restraint; he wanted you so badly that he was overwhelmed with all of the sensations of your body wrapped around his.

He had never really understood monogamy before he met you. One woman had been as good as the next. With you, corny and cliche as it sounded, it was different. It was better.

Fuck, it was damned near perfect.

* * *

Logan walked up to the reservation desk at the hotel and asked if there was a message for him. As before, there was an envelope. Thanking the attendant, he turned and read the note, which included a card key.

_Darling,_

_Room 1730._

❤️

Logan hustled to the elevator, his heart beating rapidly. He felt silly, like a boy about to lose his virginity, but in a way, every time with you made him feel special. Must be that whole love thing.

When the elevator opened, he walked slowly down the hallway. He was still anxious, hell yes. But he was also a little astounded. You had gone to a lot of trouble to make him feel special. And you were always doing little things for him, too. Like after you moved in with him and you started making him take a vitamin. Or that time he’d been sick and you had shooed the housekeeper out of the kitchen to make him soup. Or how you made sure to tell him that you loved him every morning and every night, and usually at least a few times in between.

You were possessive and jealous and demanding and goddamn…you were fucking perfect.

And you loved him.

Logan picked up the pace. Whatever you had planned, he couldn’t wait to experience it.

* * *

You were a little nervous. You weren’t sure if Logan would be amused or irritated at your little diversion. Just in case, you had a little something on under your dress that you knew he would enjoy shredding.

You’d asked the front desk to call the room when he picked up the note, so you knew he’d be there any second. You had placed your room service order and the reception desk was also calling to tell them to proceed with its preparations.

You heard the lock click and went over to greet Logan. He entered smiling, reaching for you immediately and kissing you hello.

“Honey, I’m home!” he said with a smile.

“Hello, dear, how was your day?” you said, sliding your hands down his back to his ass.

“Work was pretty dull, but when I got home, things got very interesting. Turns out my girlfriend had a surprise set up for me.”

“She sounds fabulous! You should hang on to her,” you said mischievously.

“Trying my best,” he whispered seriously, the memory of you meeting his father freshly at the forefront of his mind.

“Your best is perfect, Logan,” you said, kissing him tenderly. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too. I love you so much,” he said deepening the kiss and running his hands all over your back and hips, pulling them toward his groin.

“Mmm don’t get too involved, love. I ordered room service. I plan to ravish you all night long so you are going to need energy,” you said against his lips.

“Now what part of that statement is supposed to make me want to fuck you any less?”

“Dessert consists of chocolate syrup, whipped cream and me?” you said with an ornery grin.

Logan laughed and kissed you affectionately but less frantically. “So what’s the occasion?” he asked, heading over to the bar to make himself a drink.

“Occasion?” you asked absently, watching his ass while he walked and then his hands pouring his drink. He turned around and caught you staring and winked at you.

“To what do I owe this special weekend?”

You crossed the room and leaned up against him and said, “I just love you.”

Logan gave you that sweet smile of his that you had come to recognize as the true self he hid from the world. And you melted.

“Then I am a lucky man,” he whispered. “But how about we make it a special occasion?”

“Well, I have some plans for after dinner,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows.

“I want to hear all about them,” he said, kissing your neck in that spot he knew drove you crazy.

There was a knock at the door and you leaned back and pecked his lips and said, “To be continued.”

Room service delivered your gourmet dinner and set it up at the little table by the balcony.  You ordered steak and Logan devoured his. “Good boy. You’re going to need your strength,” you said in a sultry voice.

“You better eat up, too.”

“What a wonderful idea,” you said, standing from the table and taking a step to Logan’s side, dropping to your knees. “I’d like to eat you up, now.”

“Great idea,” he said, turning in his chair to give you access.

You unzipped his trousers and freed his hard cock from the fabric confines. Judging by the way it sprang up to meet you, Logan was pleased. You started lightly stroking the shaft as Logan slid his ass forward on the chair, then licking and sucking the head. He watched you with his eyes blazing. You loved making love to him this way and he loved it when you did.

“Honey?” you said as you popped him out of your mouth.

“Yeah, babe?” he said in a slightly shaky voice, caressing your hair.

“I’m wearing something you might want to tear off me under this dress,” you said impishly.

Logan stood up from the chair and pulled you to your feet, gripping your hair and pulling you into a kiss. It was utterly carnal and you started pulling at each other’s clothes until he stood before you naked and you in a lace teddy that was really just a few narrow strips of strategically placed sheer fabric attached with even more narrow strings.

Logan used his teeth to destroy it.

You didn’t even make it to the bed, you simply pulled him to the floor, both of you furiously aroused. Logan hitched your leg around his waist and slowly slid into you completely in one long, leisurely thrust.

“Mmmmm that first slide, huh baby?” you said, wrapping your other leg around him.

Logan grinned and said, “The second and third are pretty good, too,” as he started slowly sliding in and out at a tortuously measured pace.

You arched your back and purred like a contented cat. “Ahhhh Logan I could stay like this forever.”

Logan growled and sucked your nipple, biting lightly. The leisurely pace was gone, your passions taking over. Teeth, nails, moans and groans we’re exchanged until you both screamed your ecstasy.

As you lay together catching your breath, Logan said, “You mean it?”

“What?” you said with a goofy smile, caressing his cheek.

“You said you could stay like this forever.”

“Ah, yes. I meant that.”

“Then let’s do that,” he said, nuzzling your neck.

“That’s my plan,” you sighed.

“Marry me?”

“What?” you half screamed in his ear.

“Volume, babe,” he laughed

“Logan, this wasn’t me fishing for a proposal.”

“I know that. If I thought it was, I wouldn’t.”

“True. You’re my contrary boy, huh?” you giggled.

“So…?”

“So what?” you asked.

“Are we getting married?” he asked, a little worried that you hadn’t answered.

“Oh my God of course I want to marry you, Logan!” you exclaimed. “I love you. Yes let’s get married tonight!”

“I love you, too, Y/N,” he said with his special smile. “But let’s wait 'til tomorrow, OK? I have other ideas for tonight.”

Then he kissed you, both of you knowing that you had found your forever.


	4. No Angel

 

You stood among a bunch of society bitches that you had grown up with at wedding reception for yet another marriage of convenience. God, you hated these affairs.

This one was a command performance from your parents: appear or be sorry. You could not wait until you got control of your trust fund and could stop kissing their asses.

You were half-heartedly following along with the gossip when a collective gasp and moment of silence fell on the hens. You turned to the doorway and saw an incredibly handsome man in the entryway. He looked like he didn’t want to be there any more than you.

The women around you began to titter and gossip in earnest.

“I cannot believe he showed up.”

“I thought he was in rehab!”

“He looks terrible.”

You had no knowledge of the first two tidbits but you definitely disagreed with the last. If this is terrible then God help any human with male preference when he looked good, because he was absolutely the most handsome man you had ever seen in your life.

“Who is he?” you asked, trying to sound as disinterested as possible.

“You don’t know?” asked Rebecca, the anointed leader of their little clique.

“No, Becca, hence the question,” you replied with a barracuda smile.

She smiled her false sweetness back. “That’s Logan Delos. Word is he was booted out of the family business for being a drugged out loser.”

“I can’t believe he was invited,” said Sycophant number one, Ashley.

“Why not?” you replied in a bored tone of voice, sipping your champagne.

“His own family won’t see him. He’s basically a bastard,” Rebecca sneered.

“Wellll,” you drawled, “I wouldn’t worry too much about that if I were him. I mean, everyone says what a complete bitch you are and you still have your little sycophants walking around with their noses up your ass. I imagine he’ll be all right.”

Rebecca gasped, echoed by Ashley, Lauren and Regina. “You are so done,” Rebecca hissed.

“Yeah, whatever,” you sighed. “It’d break my heart not to be able to listen to you cows moo every few months.” You turned and walked away, enjoying getting the last word in but knowing that it would come back to bite you in the ass.

You went to the bar and ordered something a little stronger than champagne. You expected a visit from your father within ten minutes and you needed to be fortified.

“That took balls,” a voice at your elbow said admiringly.

“Beg pardon?” you said to the willowy brunette at your elbow.

“I heard you take down the bitch squad,” she remarked with a smile. “I’m Juliet, Logan is my brother. So thank you.”

“Ah, well, you are most likely the only person in here that will thank me. I expect my father to come and chew my ass any minute now, so I need to get drunk.”

Juliet laughed. “You have one of those, too, huh?”

“Yeah, I expect to be receiving Lecture 24b soon: ‘You are such a disappointment. Why can’t you keep your mouth shut?’”

“Do you know my brother?” she asked casually.

“Nope.”

“So you just made a scene, got in trouble with your family and trashed your reputation to champion a complete stranger?” she asked incredulously.

You laughed. “When you put it like that it sounds pretty stupid and reckless. Damn. I may get Lecture 27c, too.”

“Uh, there’s a really angry man coming this way,” she whispered.

You sighed. That was fast. “Hi, Dad,” you said without looking, gesturing to the bartender for another drink before turning around.

“Y/N, how can you be so stupid and reckless?” he hissed.

Juliet stifled a chuckle and you introduced her to your father. “Dad, this is Juliet. Juliet, this is my Dad.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, holding out her hand.

Your father shook her hand politely. “Pleasure to meet you. I know your husband and your father. Good men.”

“Oh, then do you know my brother?” she asked him innocently.

“I have met him a few times,” he said uncomfortably.

Your father appeared to be trying not to offend  Juliet. Interesting. Her family must be more powerful than yours. Why didn’t you know them?

“Oh, I see someone I need to say hello to. Juliet, it was lovely meeting you. I’d love to have lunch sometime if you’re free?”

“I would love that,” she said. “I’ll be in touch.”

You leaned forward and kissed her cheek, then said, “I’ll see you later, Dad!” as you cheerfully left him to be polite to Juliet.

* * *

You had sneaked out of the main room to a side room that had fewer guests. You were tucked away at a table in a corner looking at your phone until you could escape without giving your father one more thing to get on you about when this evening’s events finally caught up with you.

You were surprised when someone sat down next to you on the tiny bench where you were hiding. You looked up into the darkest eyes you had ever seen. Oh, dear.

“I understand you defended my honor. Terrible choice, really. I don’t think I have any,” he said with a smirk. “But, my sister says I have to thank you.”

You smiled. “You sound like a sullen little boy being forced to apologize.”

“Story of my life, sweetheart.”

“Well, you’ve thanked me. You can run along,” you said, looking back at your phone so you wouldn’t have to resist the urge to swoon or kiss him.

“Here and I thought you wanted to be friends or something,” he said, picking up your drink and finishing it.

You sighed and looked up at him. “Mr. Delos, I think you have the wrong idea about me. I’m not a particularly good person. I just really hate those women and how they mock and cut everyone down. They attacked you the second you cleared the door. I didn’t do it for you, I was just sick of their shit.”

“You’re quite the charmer,” he said with a laugh.

“I promise I’m not,” you said, enjoying his laugh.

“So you don’t want to link arms and set the ballroom on fire with gossip?”

Your eyes widened in delight for a second. “Oh my God that sounds fun,” you said in a breathy voice.

Logan stood and held out his hand. “C’mon, Y/N, let’s go cause some chaos.”

You took his hand and stood. “You may be the devil.”

Logan grinned. “Good thing you’re no angel.”


	5. Words Said In Anger

 

“My boat is docked right down from Steven Spielberg’s,” the obnoxious braggart at your elbow continued. The boat had been added to the list of cars, residences, art pieces, horses and bank accounts that this guy – Bob? Bill? Brad? – had been itemizing to you for the last twenty minutes as you had desperately searched the crowd at this opening for someone, anyone, that you knew who could help you escape from this fresh, crisp hell where you were currently vacationing.

“So, would you like to come back to my place and get to know each other better?” Bart? Brett? Brian? had just asked as he trailed his fingertips down your bare arm.

You stepped back out of his reach and politely said, “I don’t think so. I’m here to support my friend.”

He closed the distance again and grabbed your hand and was bringing it to his lips to kiss when you yanked it away, pulling so hard that you lost your balance momentarily and found yourself braced against a solid chest. Warm, strong hands appeared on your shoulders to steady you, then disappeared when you seemed stable.

“I said no, Biff or Beavus or whatever your name is. I forgot it after the twenty minute soliloquy you subjected me to while you were listing your assets, which I can only assume was to try and lure me into your bed and excuse you for your inadequate penis. I tried polite, so here’s blunt: go away, needledick.”

He huffed off in a snit. Apparently you were going to have to put on your bitch face until you had been here long enough to get away with ghosting out.

You turned to apologise to whomever you had bumped into, polite smile in place, opened your mouth and said, “Oh, fuck.”

“I see you’re still the same charming, sweet girl who I fell in love with,” said the love of your life, the man of your dreams and your biggest regret.

You looked up at the ceiling as if to plead to a higher power. “Why?”

“Hearing voices, Y/N? Boy, I did luck out, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Logan. We all know what a colossal imbecile I am and that I ruined both of our lives. I hear about it every time my mother calls. May I be excused?”

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Find out the grass isn’t greener?”

“Excuse me,” you said politely. You hadn’t seen him since you had fought and broken up. Which you had regretted almost immediately, but no one dumps Logan Delos and gets a second chance.

You walked quickly away, glad that you hadn’t worn a wrap and could make a break for the exit.

And of course Logan’s sister was coming in the door. Trapped between the siblings, one the man you had loved for as long as you could remember and the other your ex-best friend, you panicked and slipped around a velvet rope and down a hallway.

* * *

Logan was shaken. He had expected you to be there, to be honest, and he was tired of planning his social calendar based on whether or not he thought you would be attending. You moved in the same circles and would see each other eventually, so he figured it would be best to get it over with.

Bad idea. He gulped the rest of his Scotch and went in search of another. He watched as you made your way to the exit, his stomach twisting furiously. It had been so hard to have his hands on your shoulders and not run them down your bare arms, smooth skin beckoning his lips. When you had pulled out of the grabby asshole’s grip and stepped back into him, he had almost pulled you to him.

He missed you. So much.

You had been together for years, and had been friends before that. You were so much a part of each other’s lives that having you gone was like he was missing a part of himself. But, it seemed like you were doing just fine. You still had that razor sharp tongue that could cut a man off at the knees. You still had that gorgeous smile that could make a man forget to breathe.

Your reaction to seeing him said it all: ‘Oh, fuck.’ You were doing great and you didn’t want to ruin a fun night out by seeing him.

Yeah, you were doing just fine, he thought bitterly. And he would survive, a little battered and bruised, but he’d survive. But Goddamn, it hurt that you were doing so well without him when he felt like he was going batshit crazy without you. He thought of you all day and dreamed of you at night. Hell, when he had first seen you across the room he thought maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. How pathetic was it that he had come over to stand behind you to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things?

How had he even gotten here? You had been planning your wedding and he had gotten too high-handed with his ideas of marriage. It isn’t like he’d had a good example of how to be married with his absent father and vacant mother. But he kept telling you what he expected instead of listening to what you wanted.

You had been right. Once he put that ring on your finger he had acted like he owned you.

But things had been said, horrible things. There was no going back from those words.

You had come to a halt halfway to the exit. Logan looked over and saw Juliet coming in. Ah, you didn’t want to face your former bff, either. Guess Juliet had been telling the truth there, he mused.

He watched as you looked around, almost panicked, and then sneak around a velvet rope and go down a hallway.

* * *

You went down the restricted hallway and around the corner, then slid down the wall to sit on the cold tile floor and leaned your head against the wall. He was still perfection. It had only been three months, one week and two days, so that was to be expected. Still.

You didn’t realize that you were crying until you heard a sobbing noise and wondered where it came from.

Oh, so this is what it felt like to fall apart? Interesting. You returned to your senses to find yourself rocking, face against your knees and arms wrapped around your legs like you were about to do a cannonball.

Except you had already cannon-balled your life when you broke up with Logan. Goddamn, you missed him. Life was so empty without him. You missed him so much that it hurt to breathe.

You felt yourself calm down and realized that there was a hand rubbing your back. You stiffened and looked up, wiping under your eyes to see who was comforting you.

“Logan?” you whispered, utterly shocked.

* * *

Logan decided to follow you. He had some questions that had bothered him and he was feeling the burn of whiskey and rejection in his gut. Now seemed like the perfect time to get some answers.

Until he rounded the corner where you were rolled into a ball and crying harder than he had ever seen you. He had been by your side through the untimely death of a family member and he had never seen you this…broken. Was this for him?

He walked up next to you as you hyperventilated and sobbed, sliding down the wall to sit next to you. He wasn’t sure what to do but he knew he couldn’t leave you like this. He laid his hand gently on your back and rubbed it up and down in a gentle, soothing motion.

Maybe you weren’t as unaffected by the split as he had thought.

He felt you relax under his ministrations and then stiffen a moment later when you realized you weren’t alone.

You lifted your face from your knees and wiped tears away, further smudging and smearing your ruined makeup. “Logan?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he answered in a whisper.

“Why did…what are you doing here?” you asked, confused.

“I saw you sneak down this hall and I followed you to get some answers and probably chew you a new one.”

“And found me in a puddle and took pity on me instead. Peachy,” you said bitterly as you started to struggle to your feet in ridiculous heels.

Logan gently laid a hand on your arm. You stopped and looked at him. He didn’t look angry or bitter or snide, he just looked…tired? Sad.

“Can we just talk for a minute?” he asked quietly.

“I thought I was dead to you?” you scoffed.

“I don’t think we’ll ever be over, Y/N.”

“That’s not funny, Logan. I tried to apologize, I tried to explain. You told me to go to hell.”

“I was pissed, Y/N. You don’t have the monopoly on saying shit you don’t mean when you’re mad,” he said in a tired voice.

“I know. I guess we just weren’t strong enough to survive a real fight. Being all ‘couple goals’ isn’t worth shit if you can’t get through bad times together.”

Logan looked at you for a long time without speaking. “Is it too late, then?”

“What?” you squeaked. “You were the one giving ultimatums and – and,” you broke off sobbing.

Logan pulled you into his arms and, oh God, it felt like home. You started sobbing harder. As you melted onto him, he pulled you into his lap, and his eyes weren’t entirely dry.

“Shhhh c’mon babe, it’ll be OK. I love you, please babe, I can’t stand to see you like this.”

You calmed down a little while later, Logan holding you and whispering soothing words. He handed you his pocket square and you wiped your eyes and nose. “Wait,” you said, leaning back to look at him. “Did you say you love me and it will be OK?”

“Several times, yes,” he replied with a small smile.

“You love me?” you repeated in a voice filled with wonder.

“I do, yeah. I don’t think I can make it without you. Come back to me,” he whispered, tipping his forehead to rest against yours.

“Logan, I was only going for a walk that day. I wasn’t going to leave you. I just wanted to cool off.”

“Fuck. And I said if you walk out that door…”

“Yeah. And I was so mad…I just wanted to be married to you, why did we have to change? We were so good until we got engaged,” you said sadly.

“Yeah. How did we fuck it up so bad, Y/N? You know me better than anyone else ever has. We’ve been through everything together.”

“I dunno, Noodle.”

Logan laughed and you looked up at him. “What?”

“You called me Noodle.”

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, starting to climb off his lap.

“No, I missed it. Stay. Or come home. Don’t leave.”

“Really?” you said, hope rising in your heart.

“I mean…yeah, if you still love me,” he answered without quite meeting your eyes.

“I never stopped loving you,” you said, tentatively placing your hand on his cheek. “I was just angry with you.”

Logan leaned into your touch and looked into your eyes, mirroring your hand and silently asking for permission. You nodded and leaned up to meet his lips halfway.

Magic. Kissing Logan was otherworldly.

When you broke for breath, both of you panting, you said, “Oh my God I missed you, Noodle!”

“I missed you too, Chopstick,” he said with a happy smile. “Come home. I need you.”

You nodded, overwhelmed with joy.

“But first…we should probably find a bathroom around here. Your makeup… well, I don’t think 'touch-up’ is going to get it.”

“I love you, Logan.”

“I love you, too, Y/N. I promise, I want to make us work. We can do this.”

“Yes, we can do this. Together.”


	6. Wiggle It

 

“Oh, I like this one. How much is he?” Logan heard a voice say. He turned away from the bar and saw you looking him up and down from a foot or so away.

Clementine said, “Sorry, dear, this gentleman is a newcomer, just like you. But I know we can find someone who you’ll like just as well.”

You gave him another once-over and said, “Pity. He’s certainly pretty enough.”

Logan looked you over, too. “Just coz I’m not for sale doesn’t mean I can’t be had, sweetheart,” he said with his trademark sexy smirk.

You gave him a chilly smile back and said, “Thanks but I don’t think you’re what I need.”

Logan leaned forward to whisper into your ear and said, “But am I what you want?”

You whispered back, “That depends. Have you ever stripped at a bachelorette party before?”

Logan leaned back abruptly, eyes wide in surprise.

“That’s right, stud, I’m just looking for someone to wiggle it and have bucks tucked into his g-string. Still up for it?” you said with a wink.

“Be happy to do a private show for you, darlin’,” he replied, smirk back in place.

“I’ll keep that in mind, darlin’,” you replied, mimicking his endearment, then dismissed him

Logan was intrigued. You hadn’t looked at him with any kind of lust, just a disinterested sort of evaluation. He decided to follow you.

“So, this might not be the best way to find what you’re looking for,” he said after taking a few long strides to catch up with you.

You looked at him again and said, “I think I still have a few options.”

“I’m Logan, by the way,” he said, stepping in front of you to stop your progress to the other side of the room.

“Y/N,” you answered politely, though you rolled your eyes a bit when he kissed your hand gallantly.

“Hey!” he said, catching the sarcastic eye gesture and smiling. “I’m being chivalrous, here!”

“You’re right, I am so sorry! I must have mistaken you for the perv who offered me a private strip tease like two minutes ago, but that guy is clearly still over –” you looked to where he had been standing, “but wait, he’s gone! Could it be that you were that perv and this chivalrous gentleman before me?” you said in a tone of false shock.

Logan grinned. “You’re fun. Who are you when you’re not attempting to procure exotic dancers in Westworld?” he asked, sipping at his whiskey.

You tilted your head a bit to consider him. “No one you’d be interested in.”

“I already am.”

“Riiiight,” you said. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to find a male prostitute or two and time’s awastin’…so, see ya, Logan.”

“No, I can’t take that chance. I’m just gonna have to help you.”

“You’re going to help me find a guy to dance for this party,” you said skeptically.

“Yeah. I know damn near every host in this park.”

“That is really not something you should brag about, buddy.”

“Really? Why not? You’re here, so you can’t be anti-Westworld.”

“I’m here on business. My guess would be you’re a rich playboy here for whatever sick pleasure you can find here that you can’t get in the real world. So, if you’ll excuse me, my boss until such time as I can find a less humiliating job has ordered me to set up a sleazy bachelorette party with sex dolls that they can do whatever they want to with no repurcussions. Pretty much one step up from The Hunger Games here, so good God, let me do my job so I can go back to looking for a new one!”

Logan drank the rest of his whiskey and handed it to a passing barmaid. “Come with me.”

Logan grabbed your hand and led you to a beautiful woman who was obviously in charge. “Hello, what can I do for you?”

Logan handed her a bill discreetly and said, “This lovely lady here needs to plan a little soiree for a bride to be and her friends. Now, this isn’t a typical Hen’s Night, so we’re going to need I’d say your three best guys to go and entertain the ladies for the night. Better make it four, actually. Anything the ladies want, yeah?”

“Of course, we’re happy to provide the best time to our guests.”

Logan turned the details over to you, and you let Maeve know where and when the men would be needed. She was also able to coordinate the alcohol. As those were the final two details, you were finished until it was time to set up for the party.

As you turned away from Maeve, Logan was waiting for you with a grin on his face. You smiled and said, “Thank you for your help. It would have been much more difficult without you.”

“Clementine is nice but Maeve is the brains of the operation. If you want something done, go to the top.”

“Well, it was really great of you to help out. Sorry I was such a bitch.”

You offered him your hand to shake and he bowed over it and kissed your hand again. “It was my pleasure. It would also be my pleasure to escort you to dinner, if you have time.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You are not going to get to do a private show for me, hon. I hate to rain on your little suave parade thing, but it’s not happening.”

“Right now, you are the most interesting person in this park. Whether or not I get to show you what a terrible dancer I am, I would love to spend more time with you.”

“I have about an hour and a half before I need to set up the party, so I guess we could have a quick bite together,” you said with a small smile.

Logan held out his arm and you linked yours with it and allowed him to lead you down the street.

* * *

You had a lovely – and expensive – dinner with Logan before you had to excuse yourself to check on the party. He walked you over to the place you had rented for the soiree, waited for you to check with the staff and then he walked you back to the hotel so you could change.

“You’re putting a lot of miles on those bespoke boots for someone you’re not getting into bed,” you said as you side-eyed him for the umpteenth time this afternoon.

“You’re awfully worried about whether I’ll be having sex tonight,” he said with an impish grin.

“Just making it clear that you’re not getting in my pants – or under my skirt. Whatever. I’m not having sex with you tonight.”

“Never say never, darlin’. I’m pretty irresistible when I turn on the charm,” he said as he dropped you at the door to your hotel room. “Have a wonderful time at your party, Y/N.”

“We both know I’m going to have a shitty night of watching a bunch of society bitches cheat on their husbands with robots.”

Logan threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, Y/N, I needed that. I hope your party goes well, then. Better?”

“I’ll allow it,” you said with a smile. “Thanks for all the help and dinner and for keeping me company. I’m sure your wife is a lucky woman.”

“You sneaky little devil, are you trying to find out if I’m married?”

“No, I’m just assuming you are based on what I know of other people who come here.”

“Well, I hate to – what’s the opposite of disillusion? Illusion? I hate to illusion you –”

“Pretty sure that’s not right,” you muttered.

“But,” he continued with that smirk you had actually started to like, “I am not married. So feel free to fantasize about me.”

“Thank you, kind sir, for allowing me free reign in my own mind. You are far too generous,” you said in a faux-grateful voice. Still, you were amused. He was a charming, handsome man.

Logan tipped his hat and walked away. You liked his swagger, you liked his smile, you liked his charm. Good thing you didn’t need to resist him on a daily basis, you probably wouldn’t last a week.

“Sorry the coat is so long and you couldn’t check out my ass,” he said before he turned and went down the steps.

You laughed and then used your key to enter your room. You had to get Westworld party ready.

* * *

The party was as insufferable as you expected. The hosts were so realistic that you actually blushed a few times, it felt like you were watching porn up close and personal. It didn’t rev your engine like it did these vacant rich bitches, but it did make you think about Logan’s swagger a bit – and wonder what he kept hidden under that coat. And gunbelt.

If he was a host, you could see the temptation. But his charm wasn’t just in his runway-perfect looks, though he certainly had that. There was a sparkle in his eye, an ornery tilt to his smirk. Logan had something that if they could program it into hosts, the human race would die out. He seemed like another rich boy who probably practiced his look of sophisticated ennui in the mirror, and then his smile and laugh just came out of nowhere and boom, that was all she wrote.

Which was why you were tilting your head sideways trying to understand what you were looking at while wondering how Logan would be in bed.

You made sure the platters stayed full and alcohol flowed freely, then gratefully directed the cleanup after the last drunken party guest had retired to her suite.

You were tired. It had been a long day and you wanted a shower and your bed. Unfortunately, you were in Westworld, and while the room was beautifully appointed, it was also authentically appointed, which meant tub, not shower. Oh, well, it might be good to have a soak at that.

On your way up to your room, you stopped off at the front desk to request extra towels. You sleepily trudged up the stairs and went into your room, undressing and running a bath. After you got yourself settled into the tub and washed your hair, you heard a knock at the door. Assuming it was the maid with the towels, you called out to come in.

You heard footsteps come across the room to the bathroom, then felt a ripple in the water. You opened your eyes to see Logan kneeling by the tub and trailing his fingers through the water. You gasped and reached for a towel to cover yourself.

“I gotta tell ya, Y/N, I did not expect this warm of a welcome.”

“I thought you were the maid!! Get out!”

“That does explain it. Since I’m here, though, want me to wash your back?” he said with that damned smirk.

That smirk. Suddenly, your long day and shitty boss were just too much. You wanted Logan. If ever there was a time for a fling, this was it. He was beautiful and he wanted you. “OK ,” you said, scooting forward in the tub to make room for him.

“Really?” he said, shocked. “I mean, be right there.”

He stood up and started pulling off his boots and gunbelt, then you stood up to help. Water and bubbles ran down your body and caught Logan’s eyes, distracting him from undressing. You pushed his jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoned his waistcoat, and then he came to his senses and kissed you.

The man could kiss. You were completely enthralled with his mouth on yours, your body pressed against his and soaking his clothes.

“How about we go to the bed and get dirty, then you can come and wash my back?” you asked in your sultriest voice.

“I’m at your service,” he said against your lips, lifting you out if the tub and setting you on the rug, grabbing a towel and kneeling to dry you off, following the towel with his lips. You ran your hands through his hair, reveling in the feel of the silky strands sliding between your fingers while his lips and tongue tickled your legs. When he reached the apex of your thighs, he tossed aside the towel, lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder and simply bombarded your senses with licks and hot breaths, vibrations and suction, nibbles and flicks. His hands ran up and down your ass and legs, both holding you in place and keeping you upright when the pleasure overcame you and you climaxed against his lips.

Logan stood before you, running his hands and lips up your body on his way back up. You melted against him and kissed him hungrily, pushing him into the bedroom and trying not to trip over each other without breaking the kiss, all the while trying to get his clothes off. By the time you backed him into the bed and fell on it, you had gotten his shirt off and his pants were somewhere around his knees. All of the important bits were bare, and you decided it was your turn to explore his body. You pushed his pants and underwear off his legs and he slid all the way up onto the bed.

He had a swimmer’s body, lanky and lean, but so strong. Everything – everything – about Logan was long. His body was perfection and you touched and kissed all of it that you could reach. His legs that flexed and clenched as your touch teased him, his toes that curled when you caressed his instep, you scratched lightly with your fingernails. His torso with his pronounced abdominal muscles that flexed when you lightly tickled his ribs and the touch of hair on his strong chest, there you licked and bit his nipples. His gorgeous neck begged to be kissed, licked, sucked and bitten. His strong arms had supported you while his fingers had teased and coaxed an incredible orgasm from you. And finally his throbbing cock that you were about to taste – so very long.

You met his eyes as he had been watching you admire his masculine beauty. He didn’t look arrogant or impatient, just like he was enjoying watching you appreciate him as he had savored your feminine curves. You lowered your mouth to his length and he threw his head back and groaned loudly.

His fingers tangled into your damp hair as yours had into his strands, and you spent as much time licking and teasing his cock as he had your core.

“Y/N, baby, stop, I wanna last longer, your mouth is too fucking good,” he groaned, pulling you off his cock. “I need to get inside that pussy.”

You crawled up his body, straddling his waist and rubbing against his cock, pulling a cry from Logan. His hands were everywhere at once, caressing, fondling and squeezing. His mouth was dropping wet kisses and biting and sucking any bit of skin he could reach while you explored his delicious body with your hands and mouth.

Finally, you both had reached a fever pitch and he flipped you on your back, taking complete control of the situation. Capturing your hands in one of his, he kissed you hungrily, like he was a starving man and you were a banquet. As he kissed you, his free hand trailed down your breasts to your tummy, and then you felt his cock probing at your dripping entrance.

As he slowly, oh-so-slowly slid into you, you moaned, voice growing louder as you were filled more fully than you could ever recall. He started moving, rolling his hips and you thrashed your head back and forth in your need, meeting his thrusts and squeezing him as much as you could, wringing grunts and moans from his lips as well.

He had drawn two more orgasms from you when you finally begged him to fill you with his heat. He let go of your hands and you clawed at his back and his ass, then flipped him over onto his back and rode him, bucking your hips against his, grinding on him while you squeezed him, reaching behind yourself to caress his balls.

Finally, you leaned forward and gripped at his chest, bouncing on his cock until he started grunting and growling, his moans coming from deep within.

“You like me riding your cock, Logan? You gonna give me your cream, baby?”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he panted. “So goddamn good baby, your pussy is perfect.”

“Fill it up,” you growled into his mouth, and he lost it, grabbing your hips and slamming himself into you over and over as he came and came, his hot seed causing you to cum on him again.

You collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily and utterly exhausted from all the pleasure this amazing man had given you.

When you had regained your senses, you turned your head and kissed Logan.

He rubbed his big hands up and down your back and sides, kissing you more tenderly than you would have expected. “Do I still get to wash your back?” he asked as he kissed your neck.

“Sounds wonderful. Do they have room service?”

“Yes,” he answered with a grin.

“Good. We’ll need to power up for the next round.”

“Yeah?” he asked with that damned sexy smirk.

“If you want,” you said, slightly less sure of yourself.

Logan kissed the tip of your nose, then hungrily kissed your lips. “I want.”

You kissed your way back into the bathroom and ran a new bath, Logan settling in back while you sat between his long legs and leaned against his chest. You were mostly trying to ignore the fact that this felt more intimate than you would have thought a one night stand would feel.

“So,” you said while he lazily ran his hands over your body. “How long are you booked to stay?”

“Scheduled til next Saturday. You?”

“I leave tomorrow.”

“That’s too bad. You didn’t get to see the best parts of the park.”

“Oh I think I did,” you said, turning your head and kissing him.

“Thank you very much, darlin’,” he replied.

“Oh believe me, it was my pleasure.”

“Don’t say ‘was,’ babe. We’re nowhere near done.”

“Mmmm,” you moaned quietly as he kissed your neck and cupped your breasts with his hands. “I guess I can sleep on the train.”

“That’s the spirit!” he said, one hand trailing down your stomach to tease you again.

* * *

You spent the rest of the night in Logan’s arms, some passionately and some sweetly. You finally dropped off to sleep cuddled next to him. He stayed awake and watched you rest and dream, more infatuated with you than he could believe.

When the sun began to lighten the horizon, Logan slipped from your bed, gathering his clothes and kissing your forehead. He then dressed quietly and slipped from your room.

An hour or so later, your alarm went off and you automatically looked for Logan, but he had gone.

“Probably for the best,” you whispered aloud to yourself.

You packed your bag and had breakfast, looking at the doorway every time anyone came in the dining room, hoping to get one last glimpse of Logan. When you heard the train arrive you knew it was time to go and realized that he was just going to be a wonderful memory without even a last name. If it weren’t for the fact that it was uncomfortable to sit and the love bites you’d had to use makeup to cover, you would have thought it had been just a vivid dream.

You made your way to the train depot and then boarded, going to a changing room and putting on your dress to return to the real world. As you sat down at a table and crossed your legs, you were joined on the banquette, an arm draping around your shoulders and a smiling Logan sitting so close your hips touched.

“I decided to head back early.”

“Oh no. Hope they refunded your money,” you said with a grin.

“Some things are just more important than money,” he said softly, looking into your eyes before he leaned in and kissed you gently.

“Good, coz I never got my private dance.”


	7. Teach Me To Ride

 

“Wait for me!” you yelled after Logan and his friends. “I wanna come along!”

“No!” Logan’s friend Trey called back.

Logan stopped to wait for you and explain. “Y/N, you can’t come along, sweetheart. We’re going to be riding dirt bikes and you don’t know how.”

“Then teach me to ride!” you said, stomping your foot.

Logan smiled a little. It was annoying how you tagged along after him and his friends, but you were damned cute while you did it. “I can’t today.”

“Logan! I don’t want to stay behind. I can do it.”

“Look, I gotta go. I promise, I’ll teach you and you can come along next time.”

“Man…” Trey whined.

Logan shot him a look. You were Juliet’s age and technically Juliet’s friend, but you could just as often be found tagging along after Logan. Your parents despaired of ever teaching you how to behave as a proper lady, but Logan liked you the way you were. He hoped they continued to fail miserably.

“Shut up, Trey! You’re just scared that a girl will beat you. Again!” you taunted, reminding him that you had beaten him in swimming races, billiards and tennis so far this summer.

“Jesus, Delos, why is this little freak always following us around, anyway?”

“I am not a freak!” you yelled, starting to fly over at Trey to see if you could beat him in a new and exciting way.

Logan caught you around the waist and said, “Know what, Trey? I think I’d rather hang out with this little freak than a dick like you. Later.” Then he picked up your nine-year-old flailing fists of fury and threw you over his shoulder, walking home and leaving Trey and his other friends to stare after the two of you, Logan not looking back and you yelling challenges and insults.

When he got far enough away that you had stopped yelling, he set you down and looked at you without speaking.

You were studying your shoes intently, peeking up at him occasionally and darting your eyes back down, his silence driving you crazy. “I’m sorry I followed you again. Trey’s right, I am a little freak.”

Logan sighed and pulled you into a quick hug, then released you. “Y/N, I’m three years older than you. I’m gonna do stuff that you can’t. It’s just how it is.”

“But why? I can do stuff!”

“Why aren’t you with Juliet?” he asked, exasperated.

“She wanted to play dolls. She always wants to play dolls. Sometimes I wanna run and climb and I can’t sit still!” You waved your arms and spun around while you spoke.

Logan smiled at your dramatic speech. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said, changing direction to where he had been headed with the boys. “Let’s go teach you how to ride a dirt bike. But don’t break anything, I don’t want your dad jumping my shit!”

* * *

Things had been so simple then. Logan was so patient with you, teaching you to ride his dirt bike, jet ski, snowmobile and anything else that could possibly kill you or land you in a hospital. You simply said, “Teach me to ride!” and he melted on the spot.

In those days, he had been too young for his father to notice, a mere inconvenience. Logan learned early that his father didn’t really care what he did as long as it didn’t interfere with his routine. He was too young to be of use to his mercenary father and was therefore ignored.

It was simply understood that Juliet was the Golden Child. Juliet never did anything to curry her father’s favor, he just had no use for Logan from birth but adored her from her first breath. Logan loved her, too. There was no jealousy on his part, miraculously. He believed, deep inside, that there was something inherently wrong with him that made everyone dismiss him and adore his sister.

Except…you. For some reason, since you had moved into the posh neighborhood where he had always lived, you had been his shadow. You were five and a complete nuisance, yet he grew to love you with your determined expression and skinny legs always a few steps behind him.

And that’s how it was for years, until Logan started high school. Suddenly his existence reflected upon his father, and James Delos’ critical eye was drawn to his son again and again.

Never did he speak to Logan to commend his victories, but only to criticize his mistakes. There was no celebration when he made Varsity as a freshman in high school, but James never failed to chew Logan’s ass over a loss.

So Logan started acting out. It wasn’t original or groundbreaking, but he began drinking, partying and getting high. You started spending less time together, but occasionally in the middle of the night he would sneak into your house and show up in your room, usually quiet and turned inward, needing the only person who really cared for him and saw him for himself to hold him.

He told you about his father’s treatment of him, he told you when he screwed up, he came out to you as bisexual. You didn’t care about any of it, you simply loved him. And he adored you. The older you got, the more these middle-of-the-night meetings mattered to you, because it became obvious to you that you were in love with Logan Delos.

By the time you were sixteen, he had gone off to college and had been dating and screwing anything with a pulse for a few years. Long gone were the days when he would put aside his friends for a skinny little shadow.

But you weren’t a skinny little shadow anymore. Whenever Logan saw you, he had to remind himself that you were Juliet’s best friend, practically his sister. He missed the days when you did your level best to be with him night and day. He couldn’t even count the times he had carried you home when you had passed out trying to keep up with him as a child.

You had grown into a beauty, though. Your parents had finally instilled some manners into you, but you would always be a free spirit. And he loved that about you. He loved most everything about you, to be honest. He’d had to stop his middle of the night visits to your bedroom when he had started having less than brotherly feelings toward you.

* * *

Time marched on and you went your separate ways. You stayed in touch and had a standing dinner date once a month that you almost always kept, remarkably enough. He regaled you with tales of parties and one night stands and you bit your tongue and smiled, because though your love for him had only grown with time, you knew it could never happen and were willing to accept him on his terms. Unfortunately, his terms seemed to be a combination sister/bestie/therapist.

You dated, of course. You weren’t going to die a virgin because you had the misfortune to love a man who could never love you back – at least not in the way you wanted. Dating really only brought into stark relief the faults of other men in comparison with your perfectly flawed dream man, though.

* * *

You were on one of your monthly dinner dates and you had been chattering away to Logan about your job and your parents selling their house and just all the little things you usually caught up on, but you could tell that he wasn’t paying attention.

“So I decided to buy a pet alpaca. I’ve always wanted to learn to knit and I figured I can start making Christmas presents with a homey touch, so I will just knit straight from the alpaca’s coat.”

“Mm hmm,” Logan agreed, looking into his drink.

“And I told you I was getting frustrated with my job, so I have decided to go back to school and become a clown.”

“Yup.”

“Either that or join a cult that believes the writing of Terry Pratchett is the gospel and await transportation to Discworld. I will be giving them all of my money and valuables to fund the trip.”

“Good, good.”

“I’m going to Westworld for a vacation.”

Logan’s eyes shot up. “What? The fuck you are!”

“Ah so that got your attention! I was about to take off my top. Then again, that probably wouldn’t interest you,” you said sarcastically as you took a sip if your drink.

Logan chose to ignore that remarkably incorrect statement. “What did you say about Westworld?”

You shrugged. “You know I want to go.”

“Well, you can’t.”

That definitely got your panties in a bunch. You narrowed your eyes and said, “I don’t recall asking your permission, Logan dear.”

“I don’t care whether you were asking permission, I am telling you that you don’t  _have_  my permission,” he responded hotly.

You leaned forward and Logan’s eyes dipped to your cleavage briefly. Just because he couldn’t have you didn’t mean he didn’t want you.

“I am a grown woman and I do not need your permission to do a single goddamn thing in this wide world,” you hissed, tapping your fingertip against the tabletop. “You don’t get to ignore me for an entire meal and then pop in to join the conversation when you decide you don’t like something I said.”

“I have some shit going on in my life, alright? I’m sorry if I wasn’t paying close enough attention to whatever inane bullshit you were rambling on about, sweetheart. Some of us have actual important things going on,” he sneered.

You straightened in your seat as if he slapped you, biting your lower lip so it didn’t quiver. “Go fuck yourself, Mr. Important,” you said as you stood to leave. “Send me a bill for dinner and the pain and suffering of listening to my inane rambling.”

“Y/N,” he said, standing to stop you. “Sit down.”

He laid a hand on your arm and you shook it off. “Do you really want to make a scene in public? Wouldn’t Daddy call you to the carpet?” you said in your shittiest tone of voice.

“I deserved that,” he sighed, gently grabbing your wrist as you turned away. “Please sit down.”

You grabbed his middle fingers and bent them back until he let you go. “Bye, asshole.”

* * *

Logan slumped back into his chair, thinking that losing you on top of the company and pretty much his life was absolute poetic justice in the tragicomedy that his life had become. He gestured to the server to bring him another drink and proceeded to become very, very drunk.

* * *

You cried your way home in the back of the cab. Honestly, how could you be so nasty to someone you cared about so much? But then, he apparently didn’t care nearly as much about you as you had thought. Why did he even keep the dinner dates if he had so many more important things in his life?

You calmed yourself and texted Juliet that you wanted to book a trip to Westworld and how to go about it. Fuck Logan.

* * *

A couple months later you were in the tavern in Sweetwater, dressed to the nines and nowhere near as excited about this trip as you had thought you would be. You always pictured Logan with you when you came here, and it really wasn’t any fun without him.

So you were drowning your sorrows and wasting your time drinking instead of exploring.

You decided that even though he had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let Logan ruin your trip. You had spent an absolutely obscene amount of money on this stupid trip and by God, you were going to enjoy it. Chase some bad guys, hunt some treasure and maybe even bang a host or four.

You resolutely tossed back the rest of your drink and turned to go – and walked straight into Logan’s arms.

“What…what are you doing here?” you stammered.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly.

“You don’t call or text for two months and you decide following me here is when you wanna talk? What the hell, Logan?” you spat, shaking off his hands and grabbing the first decent looking man you saw and linking arms with him.

“Well, hello, darlin’,” he said. “What can I do for you? Or more importantly, to you?”

“Fuck off, buddy,” Logan said, pulling you away from him and pulling you outside. You fought and threw insults at him until he threw you over his shoulder and carried you to the hotel, bringing a smile to his face as he remembered doing this to you when you would pick fights with older kids.

He carried you to his room and tossed you onto his bed, which you bounced up from immediately.

“How DARE you!! How FUCKING DARE YOU?!?”

He hadn’t seen you this mad in years and he knew it would take a few minutes for you to stop screaming at him so he dropped onto his bed, leaned against the headboard and crossed his ankles.

“Well?” you shrieked.

“Hmmm?” he asked placidly.

“Have you been listening to me?”

“Nope. I tuned you out at the second ‘how dare you?’”

“Well, I don’t know why that surprises me since it’s apparently how you deal with my rambling, inane bullshit, huh?”

“No,” Logan said seriously, shaking his head. “I’m sorry I said that, sweetheart.”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore!” you snarled, practically foaming at the mouth. Hearing the pet name he had called you for twenty-some years was more than you could stand.

Logan got to his feet and said, “I am so sorry, Y/N. You are absolutely the last person on Earth I would intentionally hurt. I love you more than anyone.”

“Don’t say that. Just…don’t say that,” you muttered. You looked down at your feet so that he wouldn’t see the tears pooling in your eyes at his words.

Logan hunched down so he could look into your eyes. “Hey. I’m here for you. I said I would never set foot here again, but I’m here for  _you_. That’s love, sweetheart.”

“Love. Right. Fine.”

“Yeah, I guess that maybe my love isn’t that great of a prize, is it?” he said with a self-deprecating smile.

You looked up quickly. “Your love would be the greatest prize ever, Logan Delos.”

“Would be? I just told you…” Logan began, trailing off in confusion.

You gathered your courage and stepped forward, cradling his face in your hands, then gently brushed your lips against Logan’s. He pulled back in surprise and you jumped back saying, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that!”

Logan pulled you into his arms and kissed you, putting twenty years of love and affection into the kiss, then coaxed your lips open and added all the hidden desire and passion he had felt for you since you were teenagers.

You were in awe. Logan wanted you, too! Wait…you pulled away from Logan, panting heavily, eyelids heavy with passion.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he said, making no move to pull you back but obviously wanting to continue.

“Is this a 'What happens in Westworld stays in Westworld’ kinda thing or…”

Logan’s eyes softened and he smiled at you. “Y/N, I have been crazy about you since I was 17 years old. I convinced myself that you could never care for me that way, though, so I decided ‘brother figure’ would do. But, sweetheart, I have imagined kissing you and just…so much more. I love you in every possible non-brotherly way there is.”

You sauntered over to Logan with a very pleased smile and kissed him gently and said in your very best manipulative voice, “Logan, darling, love of my life?”

Logan’s breath caught in his chest at your words, but he certainly recognized their tone as having been used hundreds of times over the years to get him to do whatever your little heart desired. “What does my sweetheart want?” he answered in a newly accommodating voice with not a tiny tinge of irritation as there may have been in the past.

You batted your eyes up at him and said, “Teach me to ride?”

”And what does my darling want to ride?” he said as he began kissing your neck, expecting you to say a wild horse or bucking bronco.

You leaned forward and bit Logan’s neck just below his ear and whispered, “You.”


	8. A Night To Remember

 

You and Logan had been together for three years. You thought he was just about the most brilliant man you knew and he adored you enough to be content not living the wild, hedonistic lifestyle he had been before your soothing presence in his life made him realize that the emptiness inside him could be filled with things other than drugs and booze and sex with anything that laid still long enough to be screwed. **  
**

In fact, he had such a degenerate reputation that there was a running joke that if his travels took him to Scotland or Northern England, farmers would be supplied with chastity belts for their flocks, all free of charge from The Delos Corporation.

The man was randy little shit who would do anything to anything, as you liked to tease him. But he was quick to point out that he used to be that way. The love of a good woman turned him around.

And tonight, Logan was going to ask that good woman to be his wife.

He had it all planned out. First, he was taking you out to a restaurant that even he had a hard time getting a reservation, it was so booked.

Then, he had front row seats to the hottest show in town. Again, nearly impossible to get. Logan had traded a few favors for those.

Then, he was going to drive you to the place you had gone to see fireworks and said you loved each other for the first time, where he had arranged a magnificent fireworks display just for you, complete with a blanket and chocolate covered strawberries and champagne. Then, when the fireworks were almost over, he would go to one knee and show you a ridiculously large diamond ring and ask you to be with him forever.

It was perfectly planned, down to the last minute. You were going to be blown away. It would be a night to remember.

* * *

Logan picked you up for your evening put and you looked gorgeous. He pulled you into his arms and said, “Hello beautiful woman I love.”

You smiled and kissed him gently, then replied, “Hello gorgeous man I adore.”

“Let’s get going, our reservations are in a half hour.”

You grabbed a light wrap and followed him out to his car.

* * *

“Yes, I am quite certain the reservations we’re for tonight. Check. Again.”

“I’ve checked twice, sir. A table isn’t going to magically open up. You do not have reservations at this restaurant. Perhaps you made them at another establishment?” the snooty maitre’d intoned.

“I made the goddamn –” Logan caught himself, then reached into his pocket and came out with several bills tucked into his hand that he discreetly slid across the counter to attempt to bribe the maitre’d for a table.

“I’m sorry, sir, there simply isn’t room to seat you at this time. Perhaps I could make room for you around eleven o’clock?”

“Eleven?” Logan practically shouted.

“Honey,” you said gently, pulling on his arm. “Let’s just go somewhere else. My friend at the Health Department said they almost failed their inspection anyways. It’d probably be safer to eat a dirty water dog from a cart in the street.”

Logan smiled. Of course you wouldn’t care where you ate. He grabbed the attempted bribe and shoved it in his pocket, not dignifying the snooty man with any more dialogue, but the dirty look he shot him spoke volumes.

* * *

You actually wound up eating drive-thru in the car because Logan couldn’t get reservations anywhere decent and still make the show. You could see how frustrated he was when he pulled into a deserted parking lot to eat your burgers and fries, so after you ate you decided a quick make-out session was in order.

Logan was always so easy to distract with sex, so you decided to give him a special pick-me-up. Which he was really, really enjoying – until the beam of a super-bright flashlight shone through the window and put a spotlight on your very full mouth in his lap.

Logan scrambled to put his junk away and then had to deal with a lecture from the officer. He let you off with a warning and an admonishment to “just get a room.”

You were laughing your ass off as Logan pulled out of the parking lot until you noticed how tense he was.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be upset.”

Logan sighed. “Normally I wouldn’t. It just…put us behind schedule.”

“Oh well. So we miss the first couple minutes of the show? It will be fine.”

* * *

It wasn’t fine.

Logan nearly had an aneurysm when the usher refused to open the doors until intermission. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t open the door until intermission. Especially with those seats, you would disrupt the performance.”

“That’s the fucking overture! We wouldn’t interrupt a goddamn thing!”

“Is there a problem?”

“Yeah, this dickless wonder won’t let us go in and watch the show that I paid a small goddamn fortune to see.”

The manager stiffened as if he had never heard a curse word in his life. “Sir, this is a respectable establishment, perhaps you would be more comfortable at a…lesser venue?”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KID–”

“Honey, c’mon. Let’s go, babe,” you urged.

Logan let you drag him outside. As you walked to the car, he was so livid that he was practically vibrating.

“I am going to fucking buy that restaurant and that theater and I am going to fire everyone in both of them and close them down. No, I will open a restaurant that only serves hot dogs and a theater that only shows burlesque shows. Or make it a strip joint. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. Or maybe I’ll just tear the fucker down. That would be fun. I’ll make them let me slam the fucking wrecking ball into it for the first time,” he ranted.

Your eyes were wide as you walked silently next to Logan. “Babe, I’m sorry I made us late. I had no idea they wouldn’t let us in. It’s all my fault. Let’s just go home.”

“NO!”

You jumped at his reply.

“Shit, babe I’m sorry. I…just need to make a quick phone call. Get in the car?” he asked plaintively, hoping he could salvage some part of this clusterfuck of an evening.

“OK,” you said quietly, sliding into the passenger seat.

Logan closed the door gently behind you, careful not to slam it as he got his phone out.

You watched him take a few steps away and speak frantically to someone. After a few more moments of arm waving and general upset body language, he ended the call and took a deep breath, then turned to the car to see you watching him, wide-eyed and worried.

He went around and got in the driver’s seat. “Babe, I’m sorry I lost my shit. It’s just been a frustrating evening.”

“I’m sorry, love. Why don’t we just go home and cuddle?”

“No, there’s somewhere I want to take you first,” he said with his first smile since the maitre’d had started the collapse of his perfect evening.

“OK,” you said, smiling back.

Logan out the car into gear and held your hand as he drove out of the city a little way. You were intrigued by Logan’s secrecy and wondered where you were headed, but he’d had such a lousy evening so far that you didn’t want to irritate him by asking, so you simply told silly stories to make him relax.

When he pulled off the road, you looked around curiously. He parked off to the side and followed a shimmering light into a field, carefully holding your arm since you were wearing heels. You arrived to a blanket laid on the ground that had a bucket of ice with champagne chilling, some delicacies on a platter and a dozen long stemmed roses tied with a red ribbon.

“Oh, Logan, this is beautiful!” you said excitedly.

“Yeah?” he asked, sounding relieved that something went right. He pulled his phone out and hit send on a text he had ready to go, then helped you sit on the blanket. You slipped your shoes off and got comfortable next to the man you loved to see what he had planned.

There was a bit of a breeze picking up and you wished you had worn something a bit warmer, but Logan had gone to so much trouble to put together a romantic evening that you weren’t going to complain.

Then you heard thunder in the distance. Then there was lightning.

“No. Fucking. Way,” Logan muttered as a few raindrops fell as a prelude to an absolute deluge that the skies opened and dropped on the last of his carefully planned and totally fucked evening. “GODDAMMIT!” he screamed at the heavens before he threw himself back onto the blanket in a tantrum worthy of your little nephew.

“Babe, should we go?” you asked as you sat on the blanket and got absolutely drenched. “I mean…isn’t it kind of dangerous to be in an open field during a storm?”

Logan heaved a great sigh and stood up. You grabbed the roses and your shoes and let Logan lead you back to the car.

* * *

You drove home in silence. You could swear that Logan was about to burst into tears.

Logan was pretty upset, actually. He couldn’t remember such a colossal fuckup of an evening in his colossal fuckup of a life. Maybe this was a sign from the universe that he didn’t deserve you.

As you walked up to your apartment, both soaked to the bone, you were pretty worried about Logan. You knew how down he could get on himself sometimes, so you were trying to think of something to say to cheer him up.

You closed the door to your apartment and held his hand to pull him down the hallway to get undressed. “C’mon babe, it could be worse. You could have been trying to propose!” you said with a laugh.

Logan stopped dead in the hallway and dropped your hand. You turned to look at him curiously, taking in his defeated look on top of his bedraggled appearance. You gasped. “Love…we’re you going to…?”

Logan turned to go back out the door, absolutely giving up on the day. You hurried and ran around him to block his exit, throwing your arms around him and squishing your clammy clothes together. He hugged you and whispered, “I can’t do anything right.”

“Oh, love,” you whispered back. “You do everything right.”

Logan just chuckled bitterly, still holding you close.

You decided drastic measures were called for. You stepped back out of his arms and dropped to one knee, taking one of his hands in yours.

“Get up, Y/N, “ he said in a cranky voice, gently tugging his hand from your grasp.

You didn’t let go. “Logan Delos, you make my life better in every way possible. I love you so much. I only have to hear your voice to feel safe and happy and loved, and I hope that I make you feel the same way.”

“You do,” he whispered in a choked up voice.

“So would you do me the honor of being my husband and letting me tell you how much I adore you every day for the rest of my life?”

Logan pulled you to your feet and cradled your face gently on his hands. “Yes, Y/N, I would be privileged to be your husband. Would you be my wife?”

“Of course, Logan. You’re my forever. I love you so much.”

Logan smiled and then kissed you sweetly with all the love in his heart. When he pulled back he reached into his pocket and produced a ring box that said Harry Winston. You gasped when he showed you the absolutely breathtakingly beautiful ring, then he took the ring out and slipped the ring on your finger, grinning madly in his rain-soaked suit.

“We’re getting married,” he said with a laugh, then he picked you up and kissed you again.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and laughed with him, reveling in your happiness.

When he set you down you kissed him once more, then said, “OK, now let’s go take a bath, because I am freezing to death.”

“OK,” he said with a chuckle. “Then I bet we can think of some other way to warm up.”

“I bet we can,” you said with an eyebrow wiggle. “C’mon, future husband, help me out of this dress.”

“With pleasure, future wife.”

It had definitely been a night to remember.


	9. Up All Night

 

“I have pulled a lot of all-nighters in my life. A lot. In college when I was more interested in partying than studying until the very last moment before exams, I stayed up all night. Some of the time it was for the parties, sometimes for the studies. Yeah, alright, mostly for the parties.

“After college when I was proving myself by flying all over the world and going straight into business mode when I stepped off the plane, I stayed up all night. Jet lag was just another enemy to be vanquished.

“I did my fair share of partying after college, too. I don’t want to come off as all super serious. Who’d believe that, anyway?”

You lay in bed listening to Logan’s soliloquy. He had this amazing ability to go without sleep. He had a lot of other amazing abilities, too, but right now this one was your favorite.

“So I was just interested in making money and having fun. And lemme tell ya, bud, I had fun. Like so much fun.

“But then this stick-in-the-mud came along. Not gonna lie, I did not even like her at first. She was zero fun. She didn’t want to get drunk or high or well…other stuff I used to do. But I could not stay away from her. Even though she didn’t want to do any of the stuff I usually did for fun, I still wanted to spend time with her. And damned if I didn’t laugh more with her than with any of the people who hung around with me because I had the biggest parties with the best drugs and…other stuff.

“She didn’t want me for my money or my connections or anything that wasn’t about me. And I didn’t treat her the best at first, not gonna lie. I wish I could do that over. But she stuck around. Still blows my mind.

“Somehow I sweet-talked her into bed. Still don’t know how that happened. I didn’t get her drunk, though. She chose it. And I didn’t use hypnosis or mind-control as some people may claim. She fell in love with me. I know, it’s a complete mystery to me, too. But we stayed up all night a lot, then. A lot. I think we lived on coffee for a couple months straight.

“But then one day she just left. Not a word, not a note, nothing. I had no idea what happened,  and I was a wreck. See, I loved her, too, but I was too scared to say so. She thought that I didn’t care about her, and I couldn’t find her to tell her. Dark days, my friend. Dark days.

“Then I decided to go to her parents’ house and see if she was there. I had called several times over the months that she had been gone. All they would tell me was that she was safe but didn’t want me in her life anymore. I didn’t understand. How could she love me one day but not the next?

“What I didn’t count on was her finding someone that she loved more than me or even herself. She didn’t count on it either, though. It wasn’t a decision she made lightly. I don’t want you to think that she dumped me for someone else without another thought. She told me later that she loved me so much that she couldn’t face me or she wouldn’t have been able to do what she thought she had to do.

“Not gonna lie, man, I lost a lotta sleep those months when she was gone. I stayed up all night so many times just thinking of how much she meant to me and how I had never told her. I just took, and she gave and gave.”

You walked down the hallway to the living room so you could watch your husband walking the floor with your five week old son. He had been fussy all evening and decided he wasn’t going to sleep tonight. You were already exhausted so when he started wailing again as soon as you laid him down, Logan had told you to go to bed and he would take care of it.

He was a natural at fatherhood. You had definitely underestimated him when you had found out you were pregnant, but to be honest you were more than a little afraid that he would not be on board but would want you to stay, and you didn’t even want to know whether he would ask you to get an abortion. So you left without a word.

“When I rolled up in front of your grandparents’ house in a rental car and saw your Mama walking inside with her six month pregnant belly, I was shocked. I don’t think ‘shocked’ is a strong enough word, really. Flummoxed. Flabbergasted. Floored. Lotta FL words that mean shocked, huh, buddy?”

You leaned against the wall and smiled at your guys. Logan was wearing a pair of boxer briefs and holding Ronan so that they could look into each other’s faces as he told him his life story. At least the parts of his life story where he had stayed up all night. Ronan was looking into his Daddy’s face, uttterly fascinated and wide awake.

“Lucky me. Now there are two Delos men who never sleep in this house.”

“We also both like having Mama’s boobs in our mouths, don’t we buddy? Yes we do,” he cooed at his son.

You laughed at his silliness and went over to hug your family. Logan gave you a kiss and then you placed a kiss on your son’s fuzzy newborn head.

“You, my love, are supposed to be sleeping,” Logan said while he looked at Ronan.

“Are you talking to him or me?” you asked with a quiet laugh.

“Whoever will listen to me. Right, buddy?”

“I was listening to you tell him all about your bad qualities and I thought I would come out here and remind you that you have one or two good ones.”

“Oh yeah? What might those be?” he asked,never stopping his rocking motion from foot to foot.

“You’re smart, funny, sweet, kind, have wonderful taste in wives and make beautiful babies. Also you are a primo piece of ass,” you said, grabbing said real estate.

“Do you hear how Mama objectifies Daddy?” he said to Ronan. “Also, she really shouldn’t tease Daddy since she can’t put out for at least another week.”

You laughed and kissed him again. “We’re gonna have to see if they make titanium condoms. I still can’t believe you blew through a condom and my birth control pills.”

“Daddy has super spooge!”

“Oh good Christ, Logan, we’re gonna need to start a therapy fund for him instead of a college fund.”

Logan laughed. “Yeah I guess it’s all fun and games until they start repeating what we say, huh?”

“Yeah. My Dad is already not a fan. We better learn to curb ourselves before Ronan starts talking. I can only imagine what Pop would do with him repeating this shit.”

“I still think my idea has merit.”

“Ronan, tell Daddy that we are not going to lock both of your grandfathers into a pit with poisoned weapons for them to fight to the death.”

“Party pooper.”

You giggled. “I love you, Logan,” you said, kissing him tenderly.

“I love you too, Y/N. Go get some sleep. Ronan and I have a lot to talk about.”

“OK, night. Goodnight, Ronan,” you whispered with another kiss for both of your boys before you headed back to bed.

“OK we have to keep this between the two of us, man to man, dig? Dude, both of your grandfathers suck.”

“Logan!”


	10. Work For It

 

You had been having a shitty day. All you wanted to do was have a glass of wine before you went to a horrid family gathering. You were facing the bar, not looking around, definitely not making eye contact, yet this annoying yutz had been trying to smooth talk you into letting him buy you a drink for a couple minutes. You had decided to continue to ignore him and had actually set a timer on your phone to see how long it took for him to give up and move on to some other lucky girl.

From the other side of Annoying Yutz, you heard an authoritative voice say, “Buddy, leave the woman alone. She’s clearly not interested.”

“Back off, dickhead, I saw her first,” Annoying Yutz returned angrily.

“Oh, dickhead? You wanna back up those words outside?” Authoritative Voice snapped back.

“Please, you’re clearly just trying to poach her, you won’t back that up,” A.Y. scoffed.

So quickly that you really weren’t sure how it happened, A.V. had A.Y. in a half-Nelson, arm twisted painfully behind his back if the expression on his face was any indication.

“Fine, you want her, she’s yours,” A.Y. growled angrily, and A.V. released him to slink off and lick his wounds.

“Yeah, keep walking,” A.V. taunted the loser.

“Wow,” you said noncommittally.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he answered heroically.

You still hadn’t turned to look at him, which he found kind of odd.  _Was she blind? Wouldn’t she like wear sunglasses or something?_ he wondered.

“So,” he said a little less confidently, “are you all right? He didn’t upset you too much, did he? I can’t stand to see jackasses like that bothering women who are clearly not interested.”

“If you think he’s a jackass, why were you sitting together when I got here and until he came over to hit on me?” you asked with a smug smirk.

Logan was mortified. He had seen you walk in and his body had jerked to attention, but after watching you turn away three other guys he knew you weren’t here to take someone home. Extraordinary measures would be necessary. He was with his frat brother Justin and decided to put their old wingman/damsel plan into action.

“So, you noticed me, too,” he said as if he didn’t want to crawl under the bar stool he had taken next to you. He caught the bartender’s eye and gestured for drinks for the two of you.

You actually glanced over at him and smiled. “Nice recovery.”

“Thanks. So, I didn’t see you looking at me,” he began, letting his sentence drift off to encourage you to engage.

“Mirror,” was all you said.

“Ah, yeah, got it,” he said, feeling like a nerd who was leaving his parents’ basement for the first time this year. How the fuck did it not occur to him that you were watching in the mirror?

“So, you look a little old to be a virgin. How are you so bad at picking up women?” you asked as you turned to face him and crossed your legs.

He laughed and shook his head in exasperation, taking a drink of his Scotch. “I’m usually not.” He definitely noticed your legs.

“Wanna know a secret?” you said, swirling your wine around in your glass and swinging your foot a little.

“Sure,” he said with a smirk.

“I have to have dinner with my family tonight. You never had a shot,” you leaned forward and whispered into his ear, then gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Lovely to meet you.”

And then you hopped off your bar stool and headed for the exit. Maybe you put a little extra hip into your saunter, but damn, he was a fine man. Nothing wrong with sending him a little wiggle with your goodbye.

* * *

Logan grinned. No way was he letting you get away without giving him your number. He chugged the rest of his drink and followed you out the door, finding you at the curb hailing a cab. When one pulled up, he opened the door for you. “Mind if I come along for the ride?”

“You want to ride along to the restaurant where I’m having a boring dinner with my boring family?” you asked in a deadpan voice.

“I want your phone number, so I want to ride along to your boring dinner to charm it out of you,” he answered with his best smile, which was pretty damned good.

Shaking your head but smiling, you got in the cab and slid over so he could join you.

“Yes,” he whispered to himself before he slid into the taxi.

“Heard that,” you answered. “Don’t think this means you’re in, babe.”

“No, I have a feeling you’re going to make me work for it.”

“Oh, you bet your ass I am.”

“Darlin’, if you want my ass you don’t have to wager for it. It’s yours.”

You chuckled. “My, you do have a way with words,  _darlin’._ ”

Logan grinned. You were the first person that hadn’t been putty in his hands for…hell, he couldn’t remember the last time his smile or name hadn’t gotten him into bed with someone he wanted. He was looking forward to the chase.

“Tell you what, if you enjoy gambling, how about if I can talk your phone number out of you I take you out to dinner. Dessert is up to you,” he said with a flirtatious wink.

“And if you can’t?” you said with a delighted grin.

“I let you take me out to dinner. Dessert guaranteed.”

“Hmm that feels a bit like the game is rigged in favor of the house,” you said, tapping your chin as if you were trying to figure out his angle.

“I promise you, if I win, we both win.”

“You are so confident of yourself I almost want to give you my number. Alas, ‘almost’ only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades and we’re at the restaurant,” you said as the driver pulled up to the curb.

You handed the driver cash before Logan could quite register that his gambit had failed. He watched you get out of the cab and scrambled out after you, determined to try one more time.

“Wait!” he called after you, hurrying to catch up to you outside the restaurant. He pulled a business card out of his suit pocket and scribbled his mobile number on the back. “You won the bet. I’ll be waiting for your call to let me know when you want to collect.”

You smiled as you read his card. “Nice to meet you,” you said as you read his name, “Logan. It’s been…interesting.”

As you turned to walk inside he said, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Looking forward to it,” you said as you neared the entrance.

“Yes,” Logan said to himself, certain he would be hearing from you.

“Heard that!” you said as the door closed behind you.


	11. Cowboys & Angels

 

You could not believe you were at a strip club. You thought that your cousin and her friends were a little more mature and perhaps even sophisticated than this, but you were being proven horribly, horribly wrong.

As strip clubs went, The Cowboys and Angels Saloon & Cabaret wasn’t all gross like in the movies. It was actually quite the upscale club, despite the cheesy name. And they had male and female dancers, so the crowd was diverse. Still, you were uncomfortable. You weren’t a fan of clubbing and if this wasn’t for your favorite cousin’s bachelorette party, you would be anywhere but here.

But here you were. It was fun to get to wear a flirty dress with a skater skirt and heels, but this place was not your cup of tea.

You had to go to the restroom. While normally you scoffed at the herd mentality of using the facilities, tonight you would have been happy to be amongst several cackling hens as you made you way to the back of the place.

Surprisingly, they had a decent looking menu and a dining area raised dais. It all looked very classy and expensive. This place was an enigma wrapped in a puzzle, sprinkled in glitter and tied up with a G-string. Who were you to judge their business model, though? People were in here packed cheek to jowl and the alcohol was flowing. The only thing missing were slot machines and they could have the unholy trifecta of sex, gluttony and gambling.

As you made your way through the press of people, you felt eyes on you and looked up to see the most handsome man you had ever seen. He was leaning against a pillar on the dining balcony, sipping an amber beverage and looking at you as you walked past him. He was like a modern Adonis.

When he noticed you looking back, he tilted his head a bit and a slow, lazy grin appeared. Your heart nearly stopped beating as his handsome features actually became more gorgeous with the smile. Before he had been art, now he was life.

You were absolutely captivated by his mischievous expression and smiled back at him spontaneously. He shot you a wink and you actually felt yourself becoming aroused. That had absolutely never happened to you before.

His gaze still held yours. You could not bring yourself to look away, just kept moving along with the crowd toward the back of the club, not watching where you were going – and ran into a wall and fell flat on your ass.

“Shit,” you hissed as you watched your dropped clutch get kicked into the crowd as you attempt to stand without having your fingers broken by the feet of oblivious drunks.

Suddenly you felt strong hands on your upper arms pull you to your feet and to his chest while you regained your balance.

Of course it was Adonis who had come to your rescue.

“Had a bit too much to drink?” he asked.

Of course his voice was as sexy as the rest of him. Why couldn’t he be squeaky or have one of those annoying nasal voices?

You cleared your throat when you realized that too much time had passed since his question. “No, actually, I’ve only had one drink. I’m just incredibly clumsy. Thank you for your help, but I dropped my bag and I need to find it. Excuse me.”

“I’ll help you look.”

The two of you looked around for a few minutes, weaving through the crowd while looking at the floor, then you heard Adonis call, “This it?” while waving around your once lovely little clutch.

“Yes, thank you!” you called to him.

He made his way through tide of humanity and handed you your purse. You opened it up and pulled your phone out to find the screen cracked. “Perfect,” you muttered.

“Sorry about your phone,” Adonis said sincerely.

“Not your fault,” you mumbled, still unable to look at him and speak.

“I mean…it kinda is.”

You looked up to see that amazing smile that transformed his looks from haughty to naughty and found yourself entranced once again. You sighed aloud, causing his smile to widen and his eyes to crinkle.

“You can’t possibly be real. I am going to go to the powder room and when I come out you will have returned to your realm.”

“Oh I’m real enough, sweetheart. How about we get out of here and I’ll prove it all night long?” Then he looked you up and down and said, “And probably most of tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “You just propositioned me. Ha!”

Adonis looked surprised, and possibly a bit insulted. “Not interested?”

“Not convinced.”

“Let’s see what we can do to convince you,” he said as he stepped closer, placing his hands on your hips. He slowly leaned in to kiss you, brushing his lips lightly across yours. When you sighed and melted against him and slid your hands up his chest and around his neck, he darted his tongue out and teased your upper lip, then slanted his mouth against yours, steadily increasing the pressure of the kisses until you moaned against his lips.

He pulled you still closer and slipped his leg between yours a bit. Your skirt was full enough to allow him to pull your leg up a bit without flashing anyone, but the kiss itself had gone way beyond your limit for public displays of affection – yet you threaded your fingers through his hair and bit his lower lip gently. With a groan, Adonis slid his tongue along your upper lip, begging entry.

You opened to him, welcoming his whiskey-flavored kiss –

“Y/N?” you heard an astonished voice ask.

You tore yourself away from your Adonis, realizing that you had one leg wrapped around him, basically riding his thigh while his hard cock was pressed against your stomach. One of his big hands was cupping your ass and pressing you into his leg, the other had been holding your face while you devoured each other. You had one hand in his hair and, oh Jesus Christ, the other on his belt buckle.

You both panted, looking into each other’s eyes. His were a fathomless brown, almost black, and heavy with desire.

Holy shit, you had almost fucked him right there in public. Not even seeking out a dark corner, right there in the open along a well-traveled walkway that led to the restrooms. If your cousin hadn’t interrupted you…

“Kimmy!”

“Ah, yeah, Y/N. Who’s your friend?”

At this point you realized that neither of you had moved except to break off the kiss. You pulled your hands away from him and put your leg down, feeling like a teenager who had gotten caught making out by her parents.

And this was the point where you had to admit that you had absolutely no idea who your new friend was. He was presumably still standing behind you to hide the tent in his pants, but he held out his hand to your cousin and said, “Logan Delos, pleasure to meet you.”

“Looks like the pleasure was all Y/N’s to me,” she said with a wicked smile.

“Kimmy!” you hissed.

“Well can you blame me? Where have you been hiding this delicious man?” she asked.

You realized that she assumed that you must have known Logan already; no way Y/N would ever kiss a man she didn’t know like that!

You cleared your throat. “Ah I keep him under the bed most of the time. This is his day off so I let him out.”

Logan and your cousin laughed, and then Logan casually dropped his arm around your shoulders, stroking the soft skin of your bare arm.

“Well, say goodbye to Logan, the party is moving on. Logan, will I be seeing you at the wedding?”

“Oh…no,” you said awkwardly. “He… can't…”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Kimmy. Sorry for monopolizing Y/N,” he said, looking down at you with a heated gaze. “I just can’t seem to keep my hands off her.”

“Well, I’ll give you a minute to say goodbye, Y/N. No dawdling!” she called over her shoulder as she walked back to her friends.

“What. The. HELL?” you whisper-yelled. “I am not taking you to my cousin’s wedding! I have never seen you before in my life! I can’t introduce you to my family! Ohhhhhhhh she’s gonna tell my aunt and she’ll tell my Mom oh shit oh shit oh shit.”

“When’s the wedding?” he asked calmly, taking out his phone. “We should probably swap phone numbers, huh? What’s your last name, sweetheart?”

You stood staring at him like he was a lunatic. “Are you serious right now?”

“Completely. We should probably spend as much time as possible between now and then together so that we make a convincing couple. What are you doing tomorrow?”

You stared dumbly at him, furtively glancing around for the camera crew because you thought you must be on some kind of reality prank show.

“What’s your last name and phone number, Y/N? We can meet up and get breakfast and go replace your phone.”

When no one jumped out and yelled surprise at you, you said, “You’re serious.”

“Yeah, Y/N, I’m serious.”

“You’re going to pretend to be my wedding date?”

“Well, I got you into this. Least I can do,” he said as he gently pulled you back into his arms. “Not like it’s a sacrifice.”

You found yourself still in the circle of his arms texting him the information, as well as the wedding details.

Logan dropped a kiss to your lips, then looked at you and kissed you harder, like a promise of more to come. “See you in the morning, sweetheart. You better get going before Kimmy hunts you down again. She’s a little scary.”

You mumbled a goodbye and turned in a daze to walk back to your table. You were almost there when you realized that you never made it to the bathroom.


	12. The Love I Left Behind

 

Logan stood on the balcony of his condo contemplating his life and sipping whiskey. He was wearing a robe that had frankly seen better days and he hadn’t showered in…a while.

He was currently contemplating what a massive fuckup he was. As he strolled down Memory Lane, he couldn’t recall a single time when he’d had something good in his life that he hadn’t ruined.

He worked his entire life for the approval of a father who would never love him, who actually seemed to hate him more the harder he tried. His career was essentially over. He hadn’t shown up for work in a week and no one had even called to see where he was.

But most of all, he had lost you. You had said you loved him and wanted to be with him forever, yet when a job opportunity had opened on the other side of the world, you had left him behind.

Granted, you had asked him to come along. He had done nothing but complain about his job and repeatedly haf declared how he was just going to walk out and live off of you and his trust fund. So actually, when you had asked him to come with you it had been a reasonable idea.

And of course he had been a total prick.

Logan didn’t know why he seemed fundamentally incapable of maintaining a relationship. Not that he had tried very often or very hard. He was more likely to lead a parade of conquests to his bedroom to show off his Warhol on the ceiling of his bedroom.

Well, before you had come along. That was the first thing you had changed. “The tackiest thing you had ever seen,” were your exact words. You hadn’t needed him to show off his wealth or shower you with gifts. Despite his lothario facade, you had looked within him and seen someone that no one else had ever even looked for, and somehow you had found that person to be worthy of love.

And he had thrown it all away.  _As per usual, dickhead_ , he told himself.

He supposed that it was a statement on his life that no one had even texted him all week. Not even you. Oh, he had told you that he didn’t need you and that if some job was more important to you than he was, you could hop a fucking plane out of his life. Then, in a super classy  _coup de grâce_  , he had told you that he hoped your fucking plane crashed into a mountain – knowing you were a nervous flyer. That would have to go in his Dick Move Hall of Fame.

Logan realized his glass was empty and decided to just drink straight from the bottle. Decorum was a thing of the past. Besides, who would see? His housekeeper had told Logan to call him when he sobered up and you were…gone.

The love of his life, the one person who cared enough about him to help him get his shit together and be a grown-up… _yeah, nice work, fuckhead_ , he thought to himself.  _You ran her off_.

“Awesome, Logan,” he said aloud. “Talking to yourself like you were lost in the desert again.”

Though the more he thought about it, lost in the desert was as accurate an analogy as he could think of for this situation. You were his comfort. You were his home. You were his life. Without you, his life was a desert. He looked down from his balcony, not for the first time contemplating whether he’d be doing the world a favor by doing a swan dive down to the pavement thirty-odd stories below. At least he hadn’t called his dealer yet. Score one for the loser junkie.

“Well, would you look at this morose motherfucker right here?” you said, quoting one of your favorite movies to watch together.

Logan spun around at the sound of your voice, swaying a bit and not entirely sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Are you really here?” he asked quietly.

You dropped your bag on the floor and walked over to stand a few feet away from him. “Yup. But now that I’m closer I can fully appreciate that you’re standing outside. You stink, babe.”

Logan chuckled and held the whiskey bottle up as if to toast you. “Ah, the honeyed words of a woman in love.” He started to bring the bottle to his lips and you came over and took it out of his hand before it arrived, then poured the contents into a dying plant.

“I can just get more. The liquor store delivers.”

“Yeah, well, if you’d put that much effort and determination into our relationship, we’d still have one.”

“If we don’t have one, why are you here?” he sneered. “Deed’s in my name, last I checked.”

“Foolishly enough, I wanted to try again,” you whispered, looking down. “I guess I was wrong to think that maybe you’d regret the fight. I’ll go.”

You turned to leave, picking up your bag on your way out of the bedroom.

“Wait.”

You stopped but didn’t turn around. If he just wanted to score another hit before you left, you didn’t need to let him see your tears. In his present state of mind, he would go for blood if he so much as smelled weakness. “What, Logan?” you asked in a tired, sad voice.

“I thought you were leaving today. Shouldn’t you be on a plane?”

You surreptitiously swiped at your tears. “Yeah. I need to reschedule my flight. Thanks for reminding me,” you said, moving again towards the door. You had been about to check your bags at the airport and you dropped out of line and grabbed a cab, deciding to try again before you left.

You should have known better. “Goodbye, Logan,” you said, your voice a choked whisper. “I really do love you. I’m sorry you don’t believe that.”

* * *

Logan followed you to the living room to see you loading up all of your luggage to leave. “You were coming back,” he stated, shocked. “Were you coming back, Y/N?”

“Momentary lapse of reason, love. Won’t happen again, promise,” you said through your tears. “I was at the airport and realized that the love I left behind was more important than any job I was going toward. The future without you in it seemed just…empty. But I guess empty is what I get. Bye, Logan.”

“No,” he said loudly. “Stay. Or I’ll come with you. I love you,” he blurted, only to end on a whispered plea. “Please.”

You turned and looked over your shoulder. “Really?”

He nodded, unkempt hair falling into his eyes.You walked over to him and he pulled you into his arms. You held onto him as tightly as possible, and then you were kissing and talking and laughing and crying, all at once.

When you finally pulled apart to breathe, Logan was smiling brilliantly. “I love you so much, Y/N. I am so sorry I was such a dick. Please forgive me.”

“You’re not gonna sober up and change your mind?” you asked quietly.

“Babe, I knew the second you left what a truly epic fuckup I was,” he said.

“You are not a fuckup, Logan Delos! You’ve made some really bad choices, but you’re not a fuckup.”

“How are you still defending me? What did I ever do to deserve you?” he asked with wonder in his voice.

“You’re you, love. That’s all I need you to be.”

“Please come back. I need you. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

You kissed him gently and said, “How about you follow me to the shower? You are a very stinky boy.”

Logan laughed. “Get in with me?”

“Of course.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too, Delos. Now take off that robe so I can burn it.”

“You are not burning Frederick.”

You shook your head. “If only the world knew you had named your robe. What a dork,” you laughed, remembering the first time you had tried to get him to throw it away and he said that the robe was his friend and his name was Frederick.

“Don’t care about the world. Just you,” he said seriously. “I’m sorry I was such a shit.”

“Yeah, well, you’re my little shit. Love you, too. Seriously, though, you smell. Get in the shower.”

Logan smiled and pulled you along with him, happy to be with you again, and happy that at least one of you had the common sense to admit you belonged together. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course. But it is totally my turn to be a jackass.”

“I’ll put it on the chart.”

“Excellent. Now take off that hideous rag and let me see that ass.”

“I feel so cheap,” Logan responded as he dropped the robe to the floor. “I like it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Cheap? Please, I could charge admission to see that work of art and make a fortune. And the front! Michelangelo wished he had you instead of David.”

“I’m blushing,” he said as he dropped his robe and stepped into the shower.

You undressed and got in with him, laughing. “You’ve never blushed in your life.”

“You caught me,” he said with a drunken grin.

You kissed him gently. “Yes, I did. And I am not letting you go again.”

Logan kissed you back, then spent the next several hours showing you how grateful he was that you came back.


	13. Hard Love

 

James Delos didn’t believe in touchy-feely parenting methods. He looked at his son and saw himself. Oh, he looked like his mother, but the defiance, the cunning, the ambition – that was all James.

So when Logan had acted up around his father, James was quick to punish. Tough love wasn’t enough for a little shit like Logan: he’d needed hard love. He knew exactly how to deal with him because he  _was_  him. From the time Logan had learned the word ‘no’ as a toddler, James had been the heavy. Talking back was worth a slap in the mouth. Breaking something while rough-housing was worth a whipping, and he would make Logan go and get the belt to add to the suspense and fear. Getting caught drunk was enough to make him have to miss a week of school until the bruises faded.

Juliet, though, she was obedient. She was a Daddy’s girl and he loved her…well, as much as James Delos was capable of love.

Little did he know that a lot of the whippings Logan took were to protect Juliet. Sometimes he would even mouth off when Juliet got caught just to deflect the punishment onto himself.

Logan may have been a shitty son, but he was actually a pretty good brother.

* * *

You had met Logan and become friends in college. You had always had a low-key crush on him, but you knew he was a long way from settling down and if you attempted any kind of romantic involvement you’d be used up and tossed aside. You didn’t blame Logan after you had seen how his family was: abusive father, beautiful but vacant mother who had simply given up and wore the same smile all the time while she sipped her drink and slipped her pills, and Juliet, the beautiful younger version of her mother.

After meeting his family a few times, you understood Logan a bit better. His entire life revolved around his father and his opinion of him. He tried to please that man over and over, but nothing he ever did was enough.

* * *

Your friendship lasted through college and well beyond, as did your love for him. And Logan loved you, too. You had no idea whether he had ever considered you in a romantic light, though. If he had, he’d come to the same conclusion as you: your friendship might be bulletproof, but a failed romance was armor-piercing.

So you both had a series of unsatisfactory affairs to fill the emptiness that hard love had left in you – Logan’s from the hard love of an abusive childhood, yours from the hard love of an impossible relationship.

* * *

Logan’s sense of self-worth was always low because of his upbringing, but he had built up a magnificent facade over the years. Taking William to Westworld had penetrated the front and absolutely decimated his ego. When he got home, peeling layers of skin from the sunburns on his body while he sloughed the layers of confidence that he had fought to build as a man, he was completely changed. Instead of his father, you saw his mother as the dominant resemblance now. He had always favored her physically, now he resembled her emotionally as well.

And it was beyond heartbreaking.

You had watched him grow from a domineered son to a dominant man, at least when he wasn’t in his father’s presence. Yeah, he could be a jackass, but he still had that soft heart that had led him to take beatings for his sister and try to please his father over and over. But when he came back from Westworld, William had broken him more thoroughly than James had ever even considered.

You were the only one who believed him. This time, the hard love was a gift from William, but you were the one to deliver it. The most difficult thing you had ever done was tell Logan to get off his ass and quit feeling sorry for himself after he had spiraled and started taking drugs for more than fun. He was an addict and you were not going to watch him kill himself.

You dragged his ass to a real rehab, not a country club with horses and hand-holding. And he checked himself in because you told him that you loved him enough to make up for his family and you couldn’t live without him. No one had ever valued him like that before, and it gave him the strength he needed to begin to recover. The rest he found deep inside himself.

When he was discharged, you brought him home with you. He needed to be away from his old routine, so you kept him from the party circuit and helped him get to his counseling and NA meetings.

And along the way Logan found the courage to be himself and to tell you what you really meant to him. And you told him how you had always felt about him. You were both as terrified as twelve-year-olds when you kissed for the first time, but as soon as you pulled apart you knew you were home.

You had a rough go of it when you first started getting serious, of course. You had worries that you were making a mistake and would lose Logan forever. Logan was worried that he would screw up and ruin your life. Yet it was the fact that you both shared the same worry of losing each other that made you dig in your heels and work things out when love got hard. Your lives were so intertwined at this point that you really had no choice but to make it work; the alternative was simply unthinkable.

* * *

On Logan’s one year sober anniversary he asked you to marry him. You said yes, of course, and you opted to elope. You didn’t want to share your joy on that day. Selfish or not, you just wanted to be happy and not worry about what to serve or who to seat at which table to avoid family drama from long-held grudges.

A few months after your one year wedding anniversary you welcomed your son, Miles. Two years after that he was joined by a sister, Elizabeth.

Milo and Lizzy gave Logan so much love and pleasure. Miles was fairly laid back. They both looked like their father but Lizzy definitely took after him in temperament. You would become worried when they would butt heads, knowing that Logan’s paternal example was damn near as bad as it gets.

“She’s just like me, honey,” he lamented one night, plopping down next to you on the sofa after he had put the kids to bed. Lizzy was potty training and decided she was going to bed naked, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Logan had spent the last half an hour wrestling her into a diaper – which she would most likely take off at some point during the night and wet the bed.

“You’re so patient with her, love,” you encouraged your husband. “These are the terrible twos, it will get better.”

“I know. Just sometimes I can feel myself losing my temper and I’m so afraid.”

“Of what?” you whispered, stroking his hair.

“Turning into my father,” he whispered back.

“Listen to me, my love. You could never be like him. He was a monster. You are a wonderful Daddy and Milo and Lizzy adore you.”

“You’re never worried I’ll lose my shit with them?”

“No, I just worry about times like these when it makes you doubt yourself. But then I remember something I overheard you saying to Milo when he was a couple weeks old and I know it will be OK.”

“What did I say?”

“You said, 'Milo buddy, I am going to try to be the best dad I can. I love you and your Mommy more than anything. My dad sucked, but I figure when I get to a place where I don’t know how to handle the job, I’ll just think, 'What would my dad do?’ and then I’ll do the opposite.’ Which I thought was brilliant, by the way.”

Logan smiled at you sweetly and kissed you before pulling you to cuddle with him for a while before either one of the kids woke up or you had to get ready for the next day. “You taught me what real love is, Y/N. So I guess you are my parenting muse.”

You made a contemplative face, then smiled. “I like that. 'Baby Mama and Parenting Muse.’”

Logan chuckled and squeezed you a little, enjoying the quiet household that would erupt into happy family sounds in a few hours. He considered how lucky he was to have found love after never really knowing what it was until he met you. His father’s brand of hard love made him the man that he was; real love made him the man he never thought he could be – and he finally liked that man.


	14. The Morning After

 

It was the morning after the night everything changed. Why was the sky still blue? How could water still be wet? How could birds sing and traffic flow and people go about their business as if nothing had changed?

Logan looked down at you, sound asleep against his chest. Last night you had gotten a bit tipsy and told Logan that you been in love with him for years. Then you had made him promise not to tell himself, but still.

The best woman he had ever known, the only one to make him believe that he had any value in this world – loved him? That was literally the best thing that had ever happened to him.

* * *

You awoke slowly to pain, a rhythmic pounding in your head that was like a heartbeat inside your skull. Wait – it was a heartbeat. You were curled up next to someone and using his chest for a pillow. You searched your memory…who the hell were you in bed with? Did anything happen? You were embarrassed, terrified and confused all at once. What if it was a complete stranger? What if it  _wasn’t_  a complete stranger?

* * *

Logan felt you tense and knew you were awake. He was about to say something when you abruptly tipped your head back to look at him, and then your eyes flew open wide and you gasped, “Logan?”

This was not the reaction he had hoped for, to be honest.

Then you got a look on your face of impending doom, covered your mouth and ran for the bathroom, gagging and trying to make it to the toilet before you heaved.

This was pretty much the exact opposite of the reaction he was hoping for, to be perfectly honest.

* * *

You went to the bathroom, threw up so hard you would not have been surprised to see your toes come up next. Then you washed your face of the make-up you had worn last night, brushed the barf smell from your teeth, drank some water and took some ibuprofen and then ran out of things to do in the bathroom short of taking a shower, which would leave you going back to your room in a towel and nothing else.

Looks like it was time to deal with the issue at hand.

What the hell was Logan doing in your bed? And smiling at you like the Cheshire Cat? When he stayed over at your place, he always slept in the guest room. In fact, he stayed over so much that it was unofficially Logan’s Room and he kept a change of clothes or two in the dresser.

Why was he in your bed?

* * *

Why were you hiding in the bathroom? You had finished hurling a while ago. The shower hadn’t come on. There was only so much you could do in there. Were you hoping he would leave?

_Not on your life, sweetheart,_  he thought to himself.  _I have waited way too long for this moment._

The door opened and you peeked out and found him still in your bed. “Hey,” you said uncertainly.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he said with a soft smile.

Sweetheart? “Whatcha doin’ in my bed, Logan?” you asked casually.

“So you don’t remember,” he said, disappointment in his voice.

“I guess not,” you said softly. “Wanna get me up to speed?”

Logan didnt respond quickly enough to suit you, so you exclaimed, “Logan, did we have sex?”

“What? No! And you should know that for a couple of very important reasons,” he snapped as he got out of bed, heading to the bathroom.

“Logan! What reasons? What are you talking about?” you called through the door.

You heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on and off as he washed his hands, then stepped back as the door opened and he came stomping back into the room, going over to the floor next to the bed and picking up his clothes from the night before and putting on his trousers.

“Logan? What reasons?” you asked again, irritation lacing your words.

“The reasons, my dear Y/N, are that one, I would never have sex with someone as wasted as you were last night, and two, if I did, do you really think either one of us would have a stitch of clothes on? Oh, bonus: three, if we had fucked, you’d be feeling it this morning,  _sweetheart,_ ” he said, but this time the endearment wasn’t said in a sweet voice.

“Why are you pissed at me?” you asked, still utterly confused.

Logan was dressed and heading for the front door while you trailed after him in a t-shirt and underwear. Had Logan undressed you and put your pajamas on you?

“Try having someone dangle your dream in front of you and then snatch it away, see how you like it,” he growled as he left your apartment, slamming the door behind himself.

The door closing was so loud you felt like your head was going to explode. More than that, though, you were confused at Logan’s words.

What dream had been dangled?

* * *

You went to the kitchen and made some coffee to try and get your brain in working order. What had you done to make Logan so angry?

Unless…

No. No, you would not believe that you had done something so catastrophically stupid, even if you were positively paralytic with drunkenness, surely you hadn’t admitted to Logan that you…had a teeny, tiny, almost negligible crush on him…had you?

But, if you had…and he was that pissed…did that mean…fuck, your brain was so sodden with alcohol that you felt as slow as the peasants being led to the conclusion that if a woman weighed the same as a duck she was a witch in  _Monty Python and the Holy Grail._ Great, now your brain was not only not processing, it was calling up old movie references.

Nobody needed that with a hangover.

You had almost imperceptible romantic feelings for Logan. Hardly worth mentioning. However, if you had mentioned it to him in a drunken stupor, would you have possibly said you were in love with him, wanted to marry him, bear him a dozen children, and care for him in sickness and in health until they grew old together?

That was barely a crush!

But then why would he be upset?

Was Logan in love with you?

* * *

Logan went home and slammed every door he met along the way. He slammed his apartment door twice for good measure.

He went to the kitchen to make coffee, slamming a few cabinet doors as well. How could he be so stupid as to believe your drunken ramblings? Fuck you, Latin teacher in prep school; _in vino veritas_ was bullshit. You hadn’t understood what he was so upset about, which probably meant that you didn’t mean it when you said you loved him.

He had practically been ready to propose to you and you had no idea what he was even doing there. And the  _pièce de résistance_  to the whole sordid mess was that he had probably lost his best friend in the process of humiliating himself.

Fuck you, too, love. And Cupid and Hallmark and roses – hell, fuck flowers and florists in general – but most of all, fuck you, Logan, you dumb son of a bitch. Why would a goddess like you want a worthless piece of shit like him?

* * *

You chugged some coffee, then water then coffee and water again. Then you took a shower and vaguely recalled telling Logan that you had been in love with him, wanted to sex him up til he passed out and have his baby nine months later.

Well. Fuck.

You were absolutely mortified at your confession. Of course he wasn’t in love with you, he was probably just upset because he was embarrassed for you. You had most likely ruined your friendship over a ridiculous fantasy. Why would a god like Logan want an average-in-every-way woman like you?

* * *

You both moped around the rest of the day. It was Sunday, so when you were both in town it was usual for you to spend the day together watching sports or movies and generally lying around together or on each other. The first day of the death-by-stupidity of your friendship.

No, y’know what? you told yourself. This is unacceptable. You had been friends too long to let one drunken act of stupidity ruin everything. Logan should listen to you and forgive you and then give you an Intoxication Mulligan. Logan drank and played golf. Logan usually drank  _while_  he played golf, so this should be a no-brainer. Much like your confession.

Letting Logan stew would be a mistake. The longer he had to work up a good head of anger the harder it would be to reason with him. One drunken act of stupidity had broken your friendship.

Only a sober act of stupidity could fix it.

* * *

You baked the brownies Logan loved. They had been a successful peace offering in the past so you figured they couldn’t hurt. Then you went to a party store and got the most enormous bouquet of ‘I’m sorry’ balloons in the history of pathetic attempts to get out of the doghouse. They also had a poster board with letters that you could attach to spell out a message, so you made it say: “I’m a doofus, please don’t force me to make new friends.” The final decision wasn’t made lightly, because the carnage could be horrific, but you bought a six foot tall Teddy bear.

After you bought all if this, of course, you realized that you had no way to get them to his apartment, so you had to call around to find a delivery truck that would go out on a Sunday. Then you had to subvert Logan’s doorman so that he let you make several trips up the stairs to his hallway to set up your semi-public display of penance. Then you rang the bell and went to hide around the corner so you could peek through a giant ficus to see his reaction.

* * *

Logan heard his doorbell and looked at his watch. Y/N always made fun of him because whenever anything happened, he looked at his watch.  _Shit,_  he thought,  _does fucking everything have to remind me of her?_

He strode to the door and looked out the peephole and saw a giant fucking bear. “Jesus Christ, what now?” he muttered.

He opened the door cautiously and saw the absolutely ridiculous display of apologies you had set up. There were probably thirty balloons, the bear holding a plate of brownies and a sign…well, that sucked. Had you not made it clear enough that you only thought of him as a friend? “Twist the fucking knife, Y/N,” he muttered, closing the door on the whole monstrosity. He would call maintenance to get rid of it. Wait.

He opened the door and took the brownies, then he closed it again. He loved these fucking brownies. Might as well get something out of this enormous clusterfuck.

* * *

“What the hell?” you mumbled as he took the brownies and left everything else.

Well, to paraphrase  _The Big Lebowski,_  this aggression cannot be allowed to stand.

You came out from behind your potted camouflage and stomped over to his door and rang the bell. When he didn’t appear quickly enough, you rang it again.

The door flew open so fast that you jumped a little, then noticed the crumbs in Logan’s beard. “YOU DON’T JUST TAKE A GIRL’S BROWNIES AND LEAVE THE BEAR AND BALLOONS, YOU JERK!” you yelled in his face.

“YOU DONT JUST TAKE A GUY’S FRIENDSHIP AND THROW HIS LOVE IN HIS FACE, YOU ASSHOLE!” he yelled back.

“Wait, what?” you asked, taken aback.

“You told me you loved me. I told you I love you, too, and you dragged me to bed, told me you were going to, and I quote, ‘sex me up til I passed out and then have my baby nine months later.’ Then you told me you wanted to grow old together and you would love me even if my balls sagged so much I would trip over them. Then you proceeded to fall asleep standing up and drool on me all night long when I put you to bed.  _Then_  you woke up, took one look at me in your bed and puked!”

“The two were not related, Logan!”

“You said my name, covered your mouth and ran to the bathroom to vomit, Y/N! Jesus Christ, that’s not a good start to a relationship!”

“Well it’s not like I planned it, Logan! I DESERVE A DRUNK MULLIGAN!” you yelled in frustration.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS A DRUNK MULLIGAN?” he yelled back.

“I did something stupid while I was drunk so it shouldn’t count!”

“Well, maybe I wanted it to count, Y/N,” he said quietly. “Ever think of that?”

“Of course I never thought of that! Why would I think that? You fuck anything with a heartbeat. Why would I think you would want my love?”

“Because I love you, you idiot! I love you and I want to marry you and sex you up until we both pass out and have a baby nine months later!”

“THEN WHY HAVE YOU SCREWED EVERYONE ON THE PLANET BUT ME?” you screamed again.

“BECAUSE I DIDN'T THINK I COULD HAVE YOU AND I’M A MAN, IT’S WHAT WE DO!”

“WELL I LOVE YOU AND YOU CAN HAVE ME, YOU PSYCHO!”

“I LOVE YOU TOO AND HOW ABOUT RIGHT NOW YOU SCREECHING FISHWIFE?”

You started laughing then and Logan joined you a moment later, then he pulled you into his arms and hugged you like a mother who thought she had lost her child in a store: a little bit of love, a little bit of ‘don’t ever fucking do this to me again.’ And you held on to him just as tightly. Then you leaned back in his arms and his eyes had a decidedly different look in them.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, caressing your cheek with one hand, holding you close with the other.

You stood on tiptoes and said, “I love you, too, Logan,” before you gently kissed him.

Logan groaned and pulled you into the apartment, trying to close the door, happy to finally be getting the reaction he had dreamed of this morning.

“Logan, stop!” you exclaimed, giggling while he tried to kiss you again.

“Huh,” he said, wondering what was coming between you now.

“We can’t just leave our love-child in the hallway!”

“Are you really going to make me bring that thing inside?” he said in a long-suffering voice.

“But honey, look…he has your eyes,” you said with the pouty lower lip that had always worked on Logan.

Logan’s face bloomed with a huge grin and he said, “You called me ‘honey.’”

“I’ve got a bunch of nauseating nicknames that I’ve been calling you in my head for years.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh,” you said, matching his happy grin with your own. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, sweet tits.”

“It’s all I ever dreamed of,” you said with a sarcastic chuckle.

Logan got a little more serious and said, “ _You’re_  all I ever dreamed of, Y/N.”

Then he kissed you, and it was full of love and promises of growing old together, saggy balls and all.


	15. Burn It Down

 

Logan woke up, disoriented. He felt like this wasn’t the first time, but he wasn’t sure. He looked around the room and found himself in a hospital. Well. That’s probably not good. **  
**

He looked into the room and saw a figure sleeping in the chair next to the bed. Y/N. Ah. So this was an hallucination. Dreams and hallucinations were the only place he saw you these days. Something about how his addiction was tearing you apart and if he wouldn’t go to rehab and get counseling you were going to leave him before his drugs killed you both.

Not that he thought about that daily.

He had thought you were bluffing, that you wouldn’t leave him again. You had broken up a few months before he had taken that fucking ruinous trip to Westworld with Billy, leaving him in such a state of recklessness that he had lived up to all of his father’s declarations of his worthlessness. You had rushed back to him when you found out he nearly died and the two of you had mended the rift between you.

And then the nightmares started, and he lost the company to Billy, and he started partying more and more. Relaxing turned into self-medicating, and before he knew it he was using daily.

And you couldn’t handle watching him kill himself. At least that’s what his garbled mind recalled you saying as you packed your things to leave him.

He saw a water bottle on the side table and reached for it, knocking the call button from the bed when his restraints caught. So. Suicide watch, too.  _Reach for the stars, Logan,_  he thought to himself.

The noise woke you and you sat up, disoriented. Then you looked at Logan and smiled. “Hey, slugger. You gonna stay with me this time?” you asked softly as you got the water bottle for him and held it so he could drink, unconsciously stroking his hair back from his forehead.

“Wha,” he croaked, then cleared his throat to try again. “What are you doing here, Y/N? Are you really here?”

“Yeah. Juliet called me.”

“She shouldn’t have done that.”

“I asked her to. We’ve been talking every few days since I left.”

“Why? You made it pretty clear that you were done with me,” he asked bitterly, looking away from you.

“I was done with the drugs and the parties and the lying, Logan. Also, coming home from a trip to find you in bed with three people didn’t exactly endear you to me.”

“Yeah, well, you knew I was a fuckup.”

“No, I knew that your father had  _convinced_  you that you were a worthless fuckup.”

“So, what you thought you could fix me?  _Save me?_ ” he sneered. “I don’t need you to save me, Y/N.”

“Then save yourself!” you sneered back.

“Maybe I don’t want to be saved. Maybe I don’t deserve to be saved.”

“Christ. Were you always this fucking whiny? I remembered loving a man, not this toddler.”

“Trying out tough love now?” he scoffed.

“Bold of you to assume that I have any love left for you.”

“If you don’t, what the fuck are you doing here?”

You clicked your tongue and shook your head. “Ya got me. I still love you and don’t want you to kill yourself. Thought maybe this might scare ya smart.”

Logan chuckled, a genuine laugh of humor and not bitterness. “Take more than what I assume was an overdose and nearly dying to make me smart, Y/N.”

You sat back down. “Aw, babe, why do you hate yourself so much? I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” you whispered wistfully.

“Not to be a nitpicker, but if you thought I was so great, why’d you kick me to the curb?”

“Because I was falling apart trying to hold you together. Also the whole orgy thing.”

“I guess that wasn’t my most shining moment.”

“I can honestly say that I have never been more disappointed in another human being,” you responded quietly.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because if my Logan is still in there, I’d like to find him. I miss him.”

Logan turned and stared out the window for a few moments and you let him ponder your words in silence. “Do you really think he’s still there?” he asked quietly.

“I think it’s worth a shot. He was the best person I know. He was funny and smart and sweet and sexy and confident and I’d really really like him to come back,” you said, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You always said the one thing you would never forgive was cheating.”

“Turns out I love you more than my principals,” you said with a laugh.

Logan turned to look at you. “You really still love me after what I did?”

“Do you even remember doing it, Logan?”

“No,” he said honestly. “I have no idea what I did or how it happened.”

“So yeah, I really still love you. Someone has to, right?” you joked lamely.

“I’m scared, Y/N,” Logan admitted quietly. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes you do.”

“I do?”

You leaned over and kissed him gently and said, “Burn it down, love. Burn it down and start from scratch.”

Logan’s eyes were slow to open after the heavenly feeling of your lips pressed to his. “Will I be burning it down alone?” he asked hesitantly.

“That’s up to you. I threw away my pride, spilled my guts and told you I loved you and all. You kinda left me hangin’, here, babe.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, I love you more than anyone ever. My life is shit without you. I just want to hold you because I felt like I couldn’t fucking breathe when you left.”

You gently laid down on the bed with him, curling up against his side and kissed him, wiping his tears while you felt your soul drinking in the joy of being with the man you love again.

After a while of cuddling, a nurse came in and checked Logan’s vitals and removed his restraints and catheter. You helped him into the shower and he felt better after that. He sat up in a chair next to you and waited for an addiction counselor to come and go over different rehab options.

You chose a place together, and even though you wouldn’t be able to see each other for a while once he went in, Logan said knowing you would be waiting for him when he got sober would give him something to work for.

He was ready to make the changes in his life that would let him have one, and you were going to be by his side.

* * *

Years later, Logan looked back on that day as a turning point in his life. Your forgiveness lit the match that had started the fire. Because of your love and belief in him, he was able to burn his old existence down, to scorch away the darkness in his soul. What rose from the ashes was the beautiful life you had together; a life filled with joy and peace.


	16. Vintage Kind of Love

 

It had all started with throw pillows.

Logan had just come home from work, really excited to see you. You had recently moved into his place when he came to the conclusion that you spent almost every night together anyway. He owned his condo and you paid rent, his place was bigger, his kitchen was better…it just made sense for you to move in with him.

Your apartment had been…cute. You called it shabby chic. He called it dressed-up dumpster, but of course not out loud. You were actually proud of that table you had found by the side of the road and that chair you had found for $4 at a flea market and reupholstered.

You had agreed that since Logan’s place had been professionally decorated you would just donate your big furniture and bring some things to make it feel homey. He was slightly worried about what that meant, but he loved you enough to make it work.

What would it hurt to have a few throw pillows on his $5000 sofa?

Or an antique quilt on his bed, apparently.

He went to change clothes after work one day and saw a quilt covered with multi-colored circles all over it gracing the place his formerly silk duvet used to occupy.

“Do you like it? I found it at this really cute consignment shop. It was a little pricey but the colors were so beautiful!” you gushed when he saw it. “It’s hand-pieced, too. It’s really a work of art.”

He looked at you and saw the happiness on your face and said, “Beautiful.”

Your smile lit up the room.

Logan pulled you close and surrendered his heart to your love of things a little bit used and maybe neglected. After all, he was a little used and a lot neglected. Maybe your love of vintage things led you to love him? Maybe your ability to look at something and see beauty where others may see trash was to his benefit?

* * *

Eventually, ‘my place’ became ‘our place’ to Logan. His glass and chrome monstrosity of a dining table was replaced with an antique set that he went and chose with you. You complained of the price but loved the warm wood against the Oriental rug that Logan had declared it needed to be set upon.

A year after you had moved in with him, he came home to a completely different looking place. His dining room looked like it could fit into a castle in the English countryside. His living room was built around the sleek, modern sofa and Rothko painting that he had purchased before he met you and looked like a set for  _Mad Men._

And he had helped you pick damn near every piece at multiple trips to antique shops and flea markets. He realized that he was a natural haggler and loved to watch the admiration in your eyes when he was able to sweet talk, badger or bluff a seller into the lowest possible price.

He would still come home occasionally and find a priceless painting replaced with a painting by a completely unknown artist that you saw in a street fair or flea market booth. And that was fine with him. Where he had once resisted the addition of your vintage pieces into his home, now he welcomed anything that made you feel like it was your home.

* * *

Logan had surprised you with a weekend at a B&B in the country a few hours away. It was near a veritable treasure trove of antique stores and he knew you would practically swoon when you found out how many shops there were in the Vintage District of the quaint town nearby.

He had visited one day while he was nearby for a business meeting and thought it might just be the perfect place to ask you to be his wife.

* * *

“Oh wow, babe, look at this jewelry store! All antiques. Can we go in?” you asked, already dragging him inside.

“I guess so,” he said with a laugh.

He watched you ooh and ah your way through the store, following you and watching your awed expressions at the gorgeous Edwardian rings.

“Hey, hon, check this one out,” he said, down on one knee holding an antique engagement ring that he had purchased in this store when he scouted the area.

You turned to look at Logan and were shocked to find him kneeling, wearing a giant grin. Your hand flew to your mouth as you gasped and walked over to him, eyes already brimming with tears.

“Y/N, I love you more than I ever knew was possible. You have made my life better in every way. It would be my honor if you would become my wife. Will you marry me?”

You nodded a bit frantically as Logan got to his feet. “Yes, I will absolutely marry you. I love you so much, Logan.”

Logan slipped the ring onto your finger and you threw yourself into his embrace, whispering how much you loved him as the jewelry store employees applauded.

Logan held you close and delighted in your reaction. Yours was a vintage kind of love. Logan knew that you saw him for who he was and all he could be, and you accepted him with all his scratches and dents regardless of how he tried to cover them. He loved you for your heart and mind and kindness, even when you could be stubborn or short-tempered.

You had taught him that there was beauty in vintage, that even when it seemed there was nothing left worth loving, the right person could see worth where others saw uselessness.

That had been your gift to Logan when he had thought there was nothing left to live and fight for. His gift to you was his heart and his life, til the end of time.


	17. Wild Wild Love

 

Logan was not a fan of camping. Not that he wasn’t good at it – quite the contrary. He had actually been a scout as a kid, and a damned good one. He had honed his skills as an adult in Westworld, living rough while he went on occasional excursions there.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to go camping now. Now he was more of a bathes-every-day and sleeps-in-a-bed kinda guy. But, you had asked him to go and help him supervise a youth group you mentored, and he had yet to find a way to say ‘No’ to you.

Logan had met you at a charity function and you really hit it off. Of course, his reputation preceded him and you were polite but distant. Anyone who had heard of Logan Delos had also heard of the trail of exes he left in his wake. The man was a player and you had no intention of becoming a notch on his gunbelt.

But you enjoyed his company and had become friends. He seemed content with the status quo, though occasionally you would catch him with an odd look on his face, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of you or where you fit into his life.

And that was true. Logan didn’t have a lot of friends, really. Most of his buddies were married with kids. Hell, a few of them were on to their second marriages already. But none of them were female. Aside from Juliet, Logan didn’t really have females in his life that didn’t work for him or sleep with him.

So how did the two of you become so close? It was like he couldn’t go a day without hearing your voice. You had dinner together at least once a week if you were both in town, sometimes more often than that. You would go to movies together, hang out and watch TV – your parents even included him in family events.

You were besties, to be honest. You even took Logan shopping with you for dresses for functions. He had superb taste in women’s clothing. He joked that he had taken enough off of women to know what looked good.

Everyone who saw you together would ask if you were a couple, and when you said no they would ask why not. You were obviously great together. Why not be together?

And Logan wanted that, really. The attraction that he felt for you since the first time he laid eyes on you had never gone away. In fact, now he felt the physical attraction a thousand times more because he genuinely liked you as a person.

He deliberately ignored what it might mean that he adored you as a person, was sexually attracted to you and didn’t particularly like it when you went on dates, and also that he didn’t actually go on dates much himself.

Because it didn’t really matter if Logan was in love with you: you didn’t love him back. No point in acknowledging a non-starter, right?

But when you had asked him to help chaperone this trip, at first he thought you were joking. You had not been amused when he started laughing.

“Wow, thank you, dear dear friend. A simple 'no’ would have sufficed,” you had responded sarcastically.

“Wait, you were serious?” Logan exclaimed.

“Of course I was serious! How would that be remotely funny?”

“In fairness, most of your jokes aren’t all that funny,” Logan said just to be a shithead, then dodged the expected smack. “Can’t I just like…write a check?”

“Honestly, I don’t know why I put up with you,” you snapped in exasperation.

“I don’t either. I mean, if we were sleeping together it would make perfect sense as I am amazing in bed.”

You patted his cheek in a condescending way. “Sweetheart, just because you get off doesn’t mean your partner does.”

“Ouch.”

“Cheer up, stud. At least you know for sure when you sleep with a guy, right? Of course guys can blow a load if there’s a brisk breeze, so I’m not sure how proud you should be of that.”

“You’re gonna get turned over my knee one of these days, smartass,” Logan growled with mock ferocity.

“Eek. How ever shall I contain my fear?” you said in a complete monotone. “And what ever gave you the idea I’d be a sub? I promise, you would absolutely be the one to need a safety word.” Then you shot a saucy wink at him.

Logan didn’t want to admit that he was actually aroused by the odd turn the conversation had taken.

“Well, Marshall said he would ask his dad, so maybe if he goes there will be enough. I mean, the girls I could almost handle alone, but the boys…I’d like a higher chaperone to kid ratio for them. And you have all those medals in your closet from scouting, so I figured you’d know what you were doing.”

“Wait…is Marshall’s dad the one who’s always asking you out?”

“He has a couple times, yeah. Not always.”

Logan definitely did not want to give that guy three days to sweet talk you, so he did some fancy backpedaling. “Man, it fucking annoys me when a guy can’t take a hint and won’t take no for an answer. I’ll go, you obviously need someone with you to have your back,” he said, but he was thinking,  _and to keep Marshall’s dad from getting anywhere near your front._

“Logan, I’m a big girl, I don’t need you to go and be my body guard,” you said, rolling your eyes at the notion. “Besides, he’s a nice guy. I probably would have gone out with him if our schedules would have been more compatible.”

* * *

The trip was going well so far. It was three days and nights, and the kids had helped unload and set up tents, picked a buddy and were currently lamenting the loss of their phones. It was a no-screen trip and the kids weren’t even whining the loudest.

You were organizing the food and planning meals when one of the other chaperones approached.

“Whoa, Y/N, where did you find Mr. Hotty over there?” Margo Watkins asked. She was along because she had a crush on one of the guys she knew was chaperoning the boys. She was not the outdoors type and you had a feeling she was going to be more trouble than any three kids.

“Hmm? Oh, he’s my best friend. Great guy.”

“Oh. So he’s gay?”

“No, he likes women.”

“Oh really?” she asked casually. “Are you two an item?”

“No, hence I said he was my best friend and not boyfriend, lover, partner, fiance, husband or other word to indicate a romantic relationship.”

“Great! So you don’t mind if I take a run at him?”

“Margo, we’re here to chaperone the kids, it’s not a singles outing,” you said in exasperation.

“Well of course we are!” she exclaimed rather unconvincingly. “But there’s nothing that says we can’t make new friends in the process, right?”

“Sure. Have at it,” you said, knowing she would be about as appealing as nails on a chalkboard to Logan, yet still gritting your teeth. With annoyance. Not from jealousy. Nope.

* * *

“Y/N, why is Maggie following me around asking questions about my sex life?” Logan hissed at you when he found you alone getting food ready for dinner after organizing a game of team hide and seek in the woods.

“Better question: who the hell is Maggie?”

“Maggie, Maddie, Missy…whatever. Basic bottle blond with fake tits.”

“Margo. And I didn’t realize you had a preference on tits. Thought they just had to be on the front.”

“Ha ha. Yes, I have a preference. Yours are just right visually. Mind if I verify by touch?”

Damn it, how does he always know how to make you blush? “Leave my tits out of your study, thank you very much.”

He gave your breasts one last appreciative glance and said, “She won’t quit following me, Y/N! What do I do?”

“What do you normally do when someone hits on you that you’re not interested in?” you asked in exasperation.

“I normally would call her a stupid cu–”.

“Language!” you hissed at him, looking around to see if any kids were close enough to hear. “Look, just…make it obvious you aren’t interested without using foul language or making her cry.”

“What the fuck, Y/N, how else is there to do it?” Logan hissed.

“You’re a very smart, resourceful man. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

“Jackass,” he mumbled as he walked away.

“Love you too,” you called after him, making smoochy noises at his back.

Little did either of you know, there were witnesses to your exchange with Logan, and a plan was about to be hatched.

* * *

“C’mon,” Olivia hissed, grabbing Alexandra by the hand and dragging her back through the brush where they had been spying on you and Logan. He was fine and looked at you like you were an ice cream on a hot day. Olivia might only be eleven, but she knew when a guy was into someone, and Logan was into you.

And you were keeping him firmly friend-zoned.

“Lex, go find Chase and Landon and bring them to our tent. We have work to do.”

* * *

“I’ve called this meeting to address a serious issue with our chaperones,” Olivia began, addressing the children in the group who naturally acknowledged her as their leader. Harrison and and Selena had tagged along. It was a solid group.

“Y/N and Logan are a perfect OTP and we need to get them together, but Y/N has Logan in the friend zone. We only have three days and we have three obstacles: One and two are Margo and Bart, Marshall’s dad. Margo is a thirsty ho and Bart is a dork. 

“So, we need to keep Margo away from Logan, Bart away from Y/N and push Logan and Y/N together. Thoughts?”

Landon raised his hand and Olivia nodded permission to speak. She really did run a tight ship.

“What if we got Margo and Bart together?” he suggested.

“Excellent idea. Landon, take Selena and get me three ideas to make this happen. Other ideas?”

“What’s the third obstacle?” Harrison asked.

“They’re both clueless.”

* * *

Eventually, the kids came up with plans A, B & C, with contingency plans for foreseeable complications.

The main concern would be keeping Bart away from Y/N. Logan already couldn’t stand Margo, but Y/N seemed to be…well, not interested in Bart but not repulsed, either. Best not to give him a chance to charm her, just in case she found dorks cute.

Getting Margo to like Bart if she had already zeroed in on Logan could be a stretch. The two men were about as different as could be, so if one was her type it was doubtful the other would be. But if she was just desperate, any man might do.

* * *

You were organizing life vests and assigning boats for a float when Margo came over and whispered, “Put me in a boat with Logan!”

You smiled and counted to ten quickly. “Margo, it’s one chaperone per boat. You know this.”

“Well,” she hedged, “I’m not a strong swimmer, so I shouldn’t be responsible for a boat full if kids.”

_THEN DON’T COME ALONG CAMPING NEXT TIME!_  you thought angrily.

“Bart’s a certified lifeguard,” Olivia chirped, appearing from nowhere with a helpful smile on her face. “She could ride in his boat.”

“Ohh, Olivia,” Margo crooned, obviously pissed but unable to show it, “what a great idea. Thank you so much for your help!”

“I just want to make the world a better place,” Olivia replied with an angelic look upon her face.

Margo smiled and walked away.

“What are you up to, Miss Ornerypants?” you said suspiciously.

“Y/N, I’m just trying to help!”

“Uh huh. I’ve got my eye on you,” you warned playfully.

She looked over at where Logan was showing a group of kids how to hold their paddles and laughing with them. “I dunno, Y/N. Wouldn’t you rather be watching Logan?” With a smile and a wink, Olivia headed over to her boat.

You watched her walk away and glanced over at Logan. He was looking your way and sent you a smile, and he just looked so damn good that you frowned back at him.

Ugh. Beautiful soul-eating man.

* * *

Logan had gratefully fallen asleep after the last of the kids were finally quiet and only the outdoor sounds were evident. He woke with a start to find someone cuddling up next to him.

“Y/N?” he asked drowsily.

“Ah, no, it’s Margo. Y/N snores like a lumberjack so I thought I’d bunk in here. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Huh? Sure, whatever,” he said sleepily, before the situation soaked into his brain. Then his eyes flew open and he sat up quickly and got to his feet, slipping into his boots and unzipping the tent.

“Where are you going?” Margo asked testily.

“Um call of nature,” Logan mumbled as he tripped out of the tent.

* * *

You woke to the sound of your tent being unzipped. “Who’s there?” you hissed.

“It’s just me,” Logan replied quietly.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as he kicked off his boots and laid down behind you, scooting in to spoon you as he had a million times before.

“Margo appeared in my tent. Seemed easier to leave than to get her to go.”

“Ugh, OK,” you said, snuggling up to him. Wasn’t the first time you had slept together, probably wouldn’t be the last. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Just tell her we’re together.”

“I already told her we weren’t.”

“Why did you do that?” he asked in a really cranky voice.

“Because we aren’t?” you said back sarcastically.

“Great. Now I have a rapist crawling into my fuckin’ tent in the middle of the night. I’m sleeping with you til we go home,” he stated, and you knew he was absolutely not going to budge.

“Fine, but shut up and go to sleep, OK?” you said as you rolled over and tangled your legs with his, running your fingers through his hair in a soothing manner that always made him fall asleep.

“No fair using that against me, asshole,” he muttered as he pulled you closer and started to drift off to sleep.

“I know, hon. I’m an asshole. Sweet dreams,” you crooned.

“Night, Y/N. Love you,” he mumbled.

“Love you, too,” you sighed against his chest. He really was lovely to sleep with.

* * *

You heard your tent being unzipped and snuggled closer to Logan. You loved it when you fell asleep together. Most nights you had trouble sleeping, but when he was with you it was super comfy and you woke up feeling so rested and cozy.

Then you heard giggles and looked up and saw about eight faces in the doorway.

“Good morning, lovebirds!” Olivia called. The other kids giggled.

You looked and saw that you were draped across Logan as usual when you slept together, your leg across his and hand curled around his arm, one of his hands on your ass, both of your other hands connected on his chest. Logan was quite the cuddler in his sleep.

You typically couldn’t stand being touched. When you slept over with a boyfriend, you rolled away as soon as he drifted off so you could fall asleep, but you were so comfortable with Logan that you were fine with his snuggles.

Logan was always slow to wake but you were absolutely certain that he would not want to wake up to a bunch of tweens staring at him first thing.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” you whispered, head-gesturing for them to get out.

Your movement caused Logan to stir and he rolled you over onto your back and started nuzzling your neck. This was also typical. Logan was extra affectionate before he was fully awake and realized who he was cuddling. But right now his hand on your ass was pulling your hips together, reminding you of the time you had seen him naked. To say he was gifted below the waist would not be adequate. Logan was hung like a bear and he was rubbing his hard cock against your pussy. The only thing separating your groins were a few layers of cotton sleeping apparel.

“Logan,” you whispered, trying to ignore the sparks of desire you felt when he rubbed his beard against the tender skin just below your ear. The combination of his lips and dick action were actually pretty lethal and not for the first time, you wished that you were at the very least friends with benefits.

But this was Logan. He didn’t do relationships. You were lucky to have him as your best friend, there would never be anything else and you wouldn’t risk losing him in your life.

_So get your goddamn head out of his pants and wake him up, Y/N,_ you told yourself.

“Logan, wake up,” you said, gently pulling his hair to get him to quit kissing your neck.

He groaned and ground his cock against you harder.

Note to self: don’t wake Logan up by pulling his hair as that apparently revs his engine, and when his engine revs, yours does, too.

“Logan!” you said more loudly, pushing against the hand holding your leg against his hip.

“What, Y/N? I’m busy.”

“Yeah, but you’re getting busy all over me,” you told him, hoping he’d wake up enough to realize that you weren’t some floozy he had screwed the night before.

“And?” he said before resuming kissing your neck.

You shoved him off you and he rolled to his back. “Whaaat?” he whined.

“It’s not funny, Logan,” you said, getting up and getting your clothes together. “Get out, I need to get dressed.”

“Like I haven’t seen you undr–.”

“Out!” you whisper-yelled, pointing at the tent flaps rather emphatically.

“Fine,” he said, then gestured to his pants. “Just gimme a minute for…”

“Hurry it up,” you snarled.

“Yeah, baby,” he said sarcastically. “Keep talkin’ like that, I’ll be limp in no time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

Logan thought about spending time with his family.  _There,_  he thought. _I won’t be able to get hard without Viagra now._  Then he left your tent to go to his own and get dressed, hoping Margo wasn’t waiting naked in his sleeping bag. His testicles actually tried to crawl up into his abdomen at that thought.  _Have to add that thought to my anti-hard arsenal._

* * *

When Logan approached his tent, two kids were standing off to the side, loudly discussing how they had found the two of you sleeping entwined, and how it was obvious that you were a couple. Then one turned to Logan and winked, gesturing for him to hide just before Margo unzipped the tent flaps.

He ducked and went around into some brush until she stomped off, obviously furious. He didn’t envy Y/N the fireworks display that was about to begin, but then she threw him under the bus to begin with by telling such a blatantly not-his-type woman that he was free game.

Karma was a bitch.

When he was sure she was out of sight, Logan stepped out and went to his tent. The kids who had announced his sleeping arrangements we’re waiting for him.

“Ah hey…Olivia? And Landon? What’s up? Why are you…?” Logan really wasn’t sure what they were doing to finish that question.

“We decided that you and Y/N should get together. So we made you our project,” Olivia stated matter-of-factly.

“You decided that, huh? What if we don’t agree?” he asked, rather amused.

“Bruh you’re so into her it’s almost sad,” Landon said with a snicker.

Logan decided not to dispute that. Not only was it undignified to argue with a kid, the kid was right. “OK so we belong together. She won’t admit it even if she does have feelings for me, which I doubt. So what’s your plan?”

“Nah, you need to be able to say you didn’t know. But sleeping in her tent was good. We’re just here to make sure you’re serious about our girl.”

“Yeah,” Logan said quietly, scratching the back of his neck to avoid their eyes. “Yeah, I’ve been in love with her for years.”

“That is weak, man,” Landon proclaimed.

“Quiet,” Olivia ordered, and Landon hushed immediately.

Logan was sympathetic.

“So just keep an eye out for opportunities,” Olivia said as they started to walk away. “We’ll be in touch.”

Damn. Logan had been at the same table with some pretty scary people over the years, but that girl was terrifying.

* * *

“Y/N, a word?” Margo said a few minutes later, her smile saying 'friendly’ but her eyes had your instincts screaming 'Mayday! Mayday!’

“Sure, Margo,” you said sweetly, internal monologue cursing Logan for his hotness. This promised to be an unpleasant conversation. You went far enough away that you wouldn’t be overheard and began, “Look, I didn’t know he had feelings for me. When you went to his tent last night,”  _and told him I snore like a lumberjack_ , “he just couldn’t stay with you and resist you, but he knows how much I care about you and didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize our friendship. But,” this part irritated you, “we both shared our feelings and I just love him so much that it’s almost painful.” That part was true. In more ways than one.

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” she growled through gritted teeth. “I made a fool of myself.”

“And I am so sorry about that,”  _but not as sorry as Logan will be_ , “but I thought it was hopeless and he is my best friend, so if he had a shot at happiness with you I would never stand in his way.”

“You really love him?” she asked quietly.

You smiled and told the truth for the first time. “I love him more than anyone else and would marry him in a heartbeat. I never want to be away from him.”

Margo’s eyes misted up and she pulled you into a hug. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so happy for you!! I better be a bridesmaid!”

“Margo, when I marry Logan you will definitely be a bridesmaid,”  _and we’ll ride a unicorn to our honeymoon._

* * *

A little while later while you were assigning teams and bussies for hiking, Bart showed up and said, “Hey, Y/N. I hear you and Logan are together. That’s great.”

“Hey…yeah, thanks. Who knew, huh?” you said with a weak smile.

“You OK?” he asked, laying a hand on your shoulder.

“She’s fantastic, Burt,” Logan said, appearing from nowhere to drape his arm across your shoulders and pull you into his side. “Right, babe?”

“Of course! Being in love with this guy is all a girl could ever hope for,” you said cheerfully.

“Well, I’m just really happy for you. We’ll have to have lunch sometime.”

“She is gonna be so busy with wedding plans, Bret, but we will definitely be sending you an invitation!” Logan said before you could answer.

Bart smiled and walked away, looking a little worried.

“We’re getting married now?” you hissed, smile in place but eyes blazing.

“What kind of dick hits on a woman with her boyfriend in camp?” he replied indignantly, pulling you into a hug.

“What kind of cheap fucker announces a wedding when he didn’t even get me an engagement ring?” you whispered into his ear before biting the lobe almost hard enough to draw blood.

You heard his sharp intake of breath before he started rubbing his groin against you a little. “I didn’t know you were into discipline, but now I’m picturing you in a leather bustier with a riding crop and I may just come in my pants.”

You pushed away from him, still smiling. “You twisted degenerate of a man, I would never even try to think of doing something in bed that you haven’t already done or had done to you.” You stroked his hair gently and said, “Get out of my face before I punch you in the dick.”

He leaned forward and kissed your nose and said, “Love you, too, Y/N.”

* * *

It had been a long day, emotionally and physically. Where before you had never paid attention to Logan’s little touches here and there, today the caresses and hugs felt like he was just using them to keep Margo at bay. And the possessive act he was putting on for Bart was getting really annoying.

You had just returned from the showers and scrambled into your tent as to keep mosquitoes out and saw Logan pulling up his boxer briefs.

“Did you really just put your underwear on?”

“I forgot to take them along,” he said defensively.

“Right. Well, since you went to so much trouble to display it, I will apologize for being the only one to see it and compliment you on your workout regimen. Nice ass, Logan.”

“I did not go to…never mind. You’ve been a bitch all day, y’know? What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” you snapped. “Try and keep your hands – and dick – to yourself tonight, K?”

“You didn’t seem to mind until the kids saw,” he snapped back. “Wait. Are you ashamed of me, Y/N??”

“God, yes.”

“Nice,” he replied scornfully. “You asked me to come along. And you pimped me out to Margo. This is all your fault.”

“Pimped you out?” you said loudly.

Logan shushed you. “This hell day will have been pointless if you keep yelling. Unless you make it sound like you’re coming. Which would be inappropriate. We can’t have sex here, right?”

“We can’t have sex anywhere, Logan! We’re not really a couple. Jesus Christ, I kinda thought you were in on this,” you sneered.

“So what, you’re ashamed of me, you try to push me off on Margo, are you that hot for Brad’s cock?” he fumed.

You gasped. “Get. Out,” you said quietly, but he knew immediately that he had gone too far.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean –.”

“Out!”

Logan grabbed his t-shirt and left the tent, stomping into his boots and away from the campsite.

* * *

You went over and zipped the tent and then sat down on your sleeping bag. You felt like crying but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction – or really the knowledge that he had the power to make you cry. Which was ridiculous because you had fought with him and cried before, why was this so different?

Because, out here in the wild, you could admit that you loved him. Not as a pal, not as a brother, but you truly, romantically loved him. That revelation that wasn’t a revelation came this morning while you were talking to Margo and plagued you for the rest of the day.

Of course you loved him. He was music and laughter and reading and dancing and eating and drinking; all of the good things in life. But he was unattainable. You knew this. You had guarded your heart, and then when that failed, you’d tried to guard your mind against him.

Now your walls were down, and the only thing that would come of this wild love for a wild man was heartbreak.

You turned off your lantern and laid down, hoping sleep would take you so this day could be over. Unfortunately, your resolution not to shed tears over Logan was about as strong as the walls you built to keep him out.

You quietly cried yourself to sleep.

* * *

Logan crept into the tent as silently as possible. If you were asleep, he didn’t want to wake you, and if you were awake, well, you were probably pretending to be asleep and he didn’t want to be so loud that it was obvious you were faking.

Basically he didn’t want to fight with you anymore and was taking the cowardly way. And he was absolutely fine with that.

He laid down next to you because there really wasn’t anywhere else to sleep: he definitely wasn’t going to his own tent where Margo had taken up residence and he doubted Bill would welcome him for a sleepover.

As soon as he laid down, you rolled over onto him like you always did. Why did asleep Y/N want to be touching him all the time while awake Y/N was always pushing him away?

He decided to take what he could get and stroked your hair when you sort of hiccupped. He ran his thumb over your cheek to try and soothe you if you were having a bad dream and it came away wet with tears. Shit, did he make you cry?

He pulled you closer, wishing he could just tell you the truth.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, deciding that he could risk the truth while you were sound asleep.  

He drifted off holding you close, wishing he was brave and you loved him.

* * *

You woke up wrapped around Logan. Stupid, perfect man. You went back and forth between wanting to kiss him and wanting to punch him.

You restrained both urges and tried to slip away without waking him. Yes, you would have to face him eventually, but you needed to get away from his touch and his sweet face. He was positively angelic when he was asleep.

You really hated that about him.

“Y/N,” he muttered, tightening his hold on you. “M’sorry I made you cry. Don’t leave yet.”

You sighed and laid your head back on his chest. Your sneaking skills needed some work, but now that he was waking up, you didn’t really want to leave him anyway. “It’s OK,” you said.

“No, it isn’t,” he said, gently rubbing your back. “I said some shitty things. I’m sorry.”

You hugged him and said, “Logan, you must know I could never be ashamed of you. You’re like my favorite person in the whole world! And I’m not even remotely interested in Brad’s cock.”

“Really?”

“Which part?”

“I dunno, all of it. I feel like you already know this, but you’re my favorite person, too. And I thought you liked Bob?”

“Nah. I said I’d go out with him if our schedules had allowed. If I really liked him I’d make my schedule allow.”

“Ah,” he replied. “We always make our schedules allow, huh?”

“Yeah, we do.”

Neither of you were brave enough to go to the logical conclusion where this led.

But neither of you were in any great hurry to end your cuddle and begin your day.

* * *

But begin your day you did. Logan planted a kiss on top of your head and smacked you on the ass and you walked to the bathroom together, then parted ways to get dressed.

You played a modified game of capture the flag and were on opposite teams. Logan made a big deal out of patting you down for the flag and tickling you in the process while Olivia made it to the finish line and your team won. Then he kissed you and damn, he may have been pretending but you just melted.

You really wished you didn’t know how it felt to be kissed by Logan Delos more than platonically, because you didn’t think that you would ever feel like that with any other man.

* * *

That night you had a sing along by the campfire. You sat next to Logan and he cuddled you the entire time, dropping kisses on your hair or cheek frequently, putting his arm around you or holding your hand constantly. Logan was always affectionate with you, but this little performance was really upping his game.

You were actually glad to see Margo and Bart together. They were nowhere near as nauseating as you and Logan, but it was enough to embarrass Marshall.

The kids were all looking pretty satisfied with themselves, and you were pretty sure you caught Olivia winking at Logan once.

When you went to bed that night, you didn’t even pretend like you weren’t going to wind up snuggling and just started out as you were going to end, wrapped around each other.

“Y/N?” Logan whispered in the dark.

“Yeah?”

“I sleep better with you.”

“Me, too.”

“Maybe we should have more sleepovers when we get home.”

“Yeah, sure. When you can fit me into your busy social calendar,” you said with a laugh.

“I’ll always make my schedule work for you, babe,” he said with a squeeze.

“You, too. I love you,” you whispered, meaning it differently than you knew he took it.

“I love you, too, Y/N,” he said, meaning it differently than he knew you took it.

* * *

You woke up and Logan was wrapped around you this time. You were really glad that you were going home today. Any more nights spent in Logan’s arms and you just might not recover.

He was spooning you with his arm wrapped around your middle and you were sharing a pillow. When you tried to scoot away, he pulled you closer and began nuzzling your neck.

Not this again.

You tried to pull his arm up and squirm away when he growled, “Good morning, Y/N,” and then gently bit your neck and licked it.

You shivered a bit and suppressed a moan, sighing heavily instead. “It’s time to get up and feed the kids and pack up to go home.”

He continued his assault on your neck, pushing your t-shirt aside to access more skin.

You closed your eyes for the briefest of moments and imagined waking up to this every day for the rest of your life. Then your eyes flew open and you realized that it couldn’t be, so you jerked away from Logan and stood.

You whisper-yelled at him, finally at your breaking point. “Stop kissing me and rubbing against me and holding me, Logan! I am not your toy! Just because you wake up with a hard dick doesn’t mean it’s cool to rub it against me! It might be all fun and games to you, but it means…” you stopped abruptly, almost saying too much.

“It means what, Y/N?” he asked quietly, a sliver of hope entering his heart.

You went and stepped into your boots. “I need to go to the bathroom,” you said quietly. “Hurry up and get dressed so we can feed the kids and start packing. I cannot wait to get home.”

Logan hurried to his feet and caught up with you. “What does it mean to you?”

You sighed. “Don’t worry about it. You know how cranky I am in the morning. Let’s just get this show on the road.” Logan let go of the arm he had been gently holding and you walked away.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you said, not turning as you continued on to the bathroom.

“I wanna talk about this at home.”

“Sure,” you said, just happy that he had dropped the subject.

* * *

You managed to get everyone fed, packed up, gear loaded on the bus with no trash left and all fires double-checked to make sure they were extinguished. One of the lessons you had wanted the kids to learn on the trip was to try and leave nature as undisturbed as possible when you returned home from it.

You stood at the door to the bus and checked names off the list. You could probably do it visually but when kids were involved, better safe than sorry. When you got everyone on the bus you hopped aboard and sat in the front seat. Logan was all the way in the back looking miserable.

Olivia took note of this and was not pleased. Margo and Bart were sitting together and they hadn’t even been her project. You had given the kids their phones back as they had gotten on the bus, so Olivia called a meeting in chat.

_Olivia: Guys. OTP alert. Anyone know what happened?_

_Alexandra: I saw them whispering this morning and then Y/N went to the bathroom. L said they would talk about it when they got home._

_O: And I’m just now hearing about this?_

_A: Sorry_  😮

Olivia mulled over what to do. She decided that she was running out of time and to attack the problem straight on and went up to sit with you.

As she plopped down into the seat next to yours, you said, “Oh! Hey, Olivia, everything OK?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong, kiddo? Can I help?” you asked with concern.

“What’s wrong is that Logan is sitting way in the back looking sad and you’re sitting up here looking sad when you should be sitting together being happy.”

You smiled sadly. “I’ll let you in on a secret, O: Logan and I we’re just pretending to be together to get Margo to leave him alone.”

“You might have been pretending to be together, but Logan isn’t pretending to be into you.”

“Whaaaaaaaaat?” you said loudly, laughing.

“I’m not kidding, Y/N. He loves you.”

“Well sure, I know he loves me. We’re best friends,” you said in a very Captain Obvious way.

“Look, this was cute back in the wild wild woods,” she said dramatically, waving her hands and rolling her eyes. “But now, my reputation is on the line. This isn’t about you being my OTP Project anymore, it’s about respect, and I will lose the respect of my people if this falls apart.

“I am not wrong about him being in love with you any more than I am about you being in love with him. So wrap your head around that and quit being a coward,” she said, getting up and walking back to her seat.

You watched Olivia return to her seat, then glanced back to see Logan staring out the window with a bleak expression. You turned around to consider her words. She was the smartest kid you knew and she was a natural leader, able to read people in a moment – she would go far in the world.

Was she right about this?

You thought about your relationship with Logan. You had known you felt more than friendship for him for a while, you had just never really allowed yourself to acknowledge the feelings. He was never gonna settle down, what would be the point of examining those emotions?

But…what if he did want more? You explained away his early morning gropes as him not being aware of who he was in bed with, but…he had said your name. Both times.

You knew that Logan loved you. Was Logan  _in love_  with you?

* * *

Olivia watched you spacing out and not running and throwing yourself into Logan’s arms and declaring your love for him like the end of a movie. This was getting ridiculous. Were all adults this stupid and scared of life?

She decided to go light a fire under Logan’s ass. Swaying her way to the back of the bus, Olivia reached Logan and plopped down next to him. “Y/N wants to talk to you,” she said as if delivering a message, then got up and went back to her seat.

This was it. She had done all she could. If they didn’t have their movie ending now, it was out of her hands.

She watched Logan go by on his way to Y/N and crossed her fingers.

* * *

You jumped a bit as the object of your thoughts dropped to sit next to you. “Olivia said you beckoned me?” he said in a falsely solicitous voice.

“Ah, I didn’t beckon you, but since you’re here and she’s interfering, can we talk?”

“Yeah,” he said more kindly.

You were both silent for a moment while you figured out what the hell to say now that he was here. Finally, you blurted, “You said my name.”

“Ah, OK. When?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“When you were…when you woke up.”

“Oh. Yeah, I did.”

“So you knew it was me?”

“Yeah. Did you think I didn’t?”

“That is what I thought, yes,” you whispered.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, then leaned closer to say in an almost-whisper, “So you thought that I didn’t realize that it was you that I was kissing and touching?”

You nodded, eyes wide at the implications.

Logan leaned a little closer so his lips were brushing your ear. “I was kissing and touching the woman who made my cock hard. I was rubbing my dick against the pussy I wanna slide it into. I was tasting the skin I want to be inside of. I was rubbing my chest against the tits I want to suck and caressing the legs I want wrapped around my waist and squeezing the ass I want to hold onto while I lick your sweet –”

You slammed your mouth into his, partly to shut him up and partly because you simply couldn’t help yourself. Logan wanted you. Logan wanted  _you!_

You broke off the kiss, gasping for air and said, “I love you, Logan. You’re my best friend but I also love you like not a friend, and I want you, too.”

Logan had the widest, happiest grin you had ever seen grace his handsome face. “I love you, too, Y/N.”

You kissed him again, attempting to keep his hands in a family friendly zone and laughing as he attempted to grope you playfully. You both became aware of applause and turned to see Olivia and her friends cheering you on.

You looked at Olivia and mouthed the words, 'thank you.’ She nodded her head regally, as if to say, 'my work here is finished.’

Logan caught the exchange. “I am paying for that kid to go to college, anywhere she wants. We need that kid in charge.”

You remembered her words after she had maneuvered Margo and Bart into the same boat. “She just wants to make the world a better place.”

Logan shook his head appreciatively. “If anyone can, it’s Olivia.”


	18. Do You Mind?

 

You had met Logan Delos in freshman year of college. He had been a junior and was taking a Spanish class over that he had flunked, while you were in second year as a freshman because you tested out of the first year. **  
**

You were a Hermione: the perfect student who always knew the answers and always blew the curve. Logan had seen you studying in the library after you had gotten your first exams back.

He did not do well. And he could not fail again.

So, he went and sat down at your table and whispered, “Hi.”

You looked around to see who he was talking to. “Hi me?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile.

“Do you need the table or something? I can move. I’ll move.”

“No, I wanted to talk to you,” he said with his best smile.

“Why? What do you want?”

“I can’t just be friendly to a pretty girl I have a class with?” he said in a jovial voice.

“Cut the crap, dude. I have an exam I need to study for. What do you want?”

Logan dropped his smile. “I need help in Spanish. I’m already retaking it and if I fail again my Father will disown me,” he said.

“Ah. Might wanna lead with that next time instead of pretending to go slumming,” you said snidely. “I have my own work to do. I don’t have time to do yours.”

“I can pay you,” he said urgently.

“I don’t want your money.”

“I really need help,” he said quietly as you started to walk away. “Please.”

You stopped, turned and mumbled, “'Twas the ‘please’ that caught my memory.”

“Did…did you just quote The Princess Bride at me?”

“You recognized the quote?”

“I’m not a savage,” he responded scornfully. “Are you gonna tutor me or what?”

“Tell ya what, if you can tell me what my name is, I will tutor you, yeah.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Whoa.”

“Duh. The instructor calls on you like ten times per class.”

“Oh, right.”

“So you’ll tutor me?”

“A deal’s a deal,” you said reluctantly, cursing your smartass nature.

“Thank you, Y/N! I will pay you whatever you want. You’re an angel. When do we start?” he said gratefully.

You shrugged. “I’m here, you’re here…now?”

Logan smiled at you and pulled his books out.

* * *

You had been tutoring him for three weeks and he was nothing like what you expected. Yeah, he was a rich kid but he wasn’t the assbag you had expected him to be. He was nice and funny. You weren’t naive enough to think you were friends or that he’d want to keep hanging out with you after this semester was over, but at least it wasn’t torture to work with him.

Logan was a touchy-feely person, though. It took you by surprise, really. A few days into tutoring him he casually dropped his arm across your shoulders while you showed him some mnemonics you had written up to help him remember.

“Do you mind?” you had asked, eyebrows raised and looking pointedly at his arm.

“Naw, I’m OK with PDAs,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes at him and went back to work.

The next day, you brought M&Ms and gave him a treat when he got an answer right. He laughed his ass off and kissed you on the cheek.

Your eyeballs just might roll out of your head before this class was over.

* * *

Logan was obviously smart, his brain just didn’t seem to want to learn languages. You helped him practice and memorize and pronounce and he went from a paltry 38% on the first exam to an 81% on the second. When he got his test back, he stood up and pulled you into a hug right in the middle of class, beaming with pride. And, dammit, he deserved it, he had worked hard. You hugged him right back.

Then your prof had requested you continue your celebration after class, so he gave you a last squeeze and kissed your cheek.

Your instructor went to his desk and your phone vibrated in your pocket. When you pulled it out, you saw that Logan had texted you.

_L: Celebration dinner?_

_Y: Sure. Pizza or burgers?_

_L: Nah, someplace nice. I wanna thank you, not poison you._ 😋

_Y: I don’t have clothes here for some place nice. Hell I don’t think I have clothes at home for your level of nice._

_L: You can’t see since you’re behind me, but know that I’m rolling my eyes at you._

_Y: Thanks for the update._

_L: Fine, shopping tonight, dinner tomorrow._

_Y: No can do, I have to work tomorrow night._

_L: Fuck, can’t you just be my on-call tutor?_

_Y: While I live to serve you, I also need to pay the part of my tuition that my scholarships don’t cover._

_L: Fuck, Señor Sleeping Pill looked ttyl_

You snickered at Logan’s nickname for the instructor. He was entirely convinced that his inability to master the class was because the teacher was boring while you entertained him while he learned.

You wound up having pizza with a promise of a fancy dinner at the end of the semester if he passed his final.

* * *

Logan’s affection wasn’t limited to study sessions or when you were alone. He saw you in the cafeteria eating lunch with friends and he came over and hugged you from behind, dropping wet kisses all over your cheeks.

Wiping away the slobber, you said, “Ugh, do you mind not drenching me in spit?”

“You know you love me,” he said with a kiss to the top of your head, then off he went.

Your friends were staring at you.

“What? I tutor him,” you said, as if that explained the display they had just witnessed.

“Is that what you call it?” one of your friends said with a lewd eyebrow wiggle.

You all laughed and then you said, “Right. As if Logan Delos would ever lower himself to my level.”

“I dunno, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with being seen with you.”

“Well, like I said: I’m tutoring him. I’ll probably never see him again after this semester.”

* * *

Finals were approaching, and of course, the Spanish exam was cumulative. Logan was super worried about his score, which of course meant his attention span was more like a gnat on crack than usual.

You were going over a concept he’d not done well on previously and he was literally watching a bug crawl across the light fixture above him.

You clapped your hands in his face a couple times. “Hey! If you’re not gonna pay attention I’ll study for my own tests!” you snapped. You weren’t immune to the pressures of finals.

“Sorry,” he said, dropping his head to your shoulder and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. “I love you. Forgive me?”

“Ugh, do you mind?” you said, pushing his face away while he laughed. “If I had known you were going to sit in my lap and try to breastfeed I would have charged more.”

“Wait,” he said, looking at your chest. “Was that an option?”

“Let me guess: you’re certain you’d be able to focus with a nipple in your mouth?” you said with a half-smile.

“Don’t you think it’s worth a try?” he said with hopeful eyes.

You smacked him gently on the back of the head. “No. Get busy, I have to go to work in three hours and I would like to eat something before hand.”

* * *

Logan got a whopping 92% on the final, pulling his grade so close to a B that the Prof gave it to him. He was almost in tears when he told you.

“This is all you. Let me take you out. Let me buy you a car!”

“Dinner is plenty, Logan. I don’t need a car,” you said, sure that this dinner would be the last time you’d spend with Logan.

You had a lovely evening. While he’d tried to buy you a dress to wear, you had found a nice dress at a thrift store and looked good. He had acted like it was a date, opening doors and holding chairs. Good thing you knew better, because this man could charm a politician into telling the truth.

When he dropped you off, he hugged you and wished you a good holiday and said he’d see you after break. You went along with it because, sure, you went to the same school, you’d probably see him around.

* * *

You went home for the winter break and we’re surprised when Logan called and texted a few times, the first time thanking you again for helping him pass, saying that his father had barely chewed him a new asshole. The other times he just wanted to…chat?

You were beginning to think that you weren’t just a temporary tutor. Had you gone and become friends with Logan?

* * *

You were walking to the Business Office when you got back to school. You had to renew your payment arrangements for the balance after your scholarships were applied each semester. When you got to the office, the employee pulled up your account and said, “Honey, you have a zero balance. What were you looking to do here?”

“No, I have to make payment arrangements for the balance after my scholarships are applied,” you repeated.

She turned the monitor so you could see it, “And I said you have a zero balance. In fact, it looks like you have a credit at the book store.”

“That’s not possible,” you said, deeply confused.

“You did have a balance, but it looks like you got awarded another scholarship from the Delos Foundation.”

“Excuse me?” you said, super pissed off.

“Look, if you have an issue with this, you should go to the Financial Aid office. We just handle the money, they deal with where it comes from. Next!” she called over your shoulder to get you moving.

* * *

What the actual fuck was he doing? You decided to head over to his frat house and find out.

You had been there a few times to study last semester but you mostly tried to meet at the library or common rooms on campus. His house was just too busy, it was next to impossible to get him to focus.

You waited while one of his fraternity brothers ran to see if he was in, then heard thumping down the stairs and the next thing you know, you were being spun in circles by Logan.

“Ugh, do you mind?” you said in a grouchy tone.

“Whaaaat? You came to see me, I thought you missed me, too!” he said with a big smile.

“I need to talk to you,” you answered, not biting on the missing you thing.

“OK,” he said with a sigh. “C’mon.”

You followed him up to his room and entered before him, then he closed the door.

“Look, I know why you’re here,” he began.

“Oh you do?”

“Yeah. And I think we should just keep our relationship professional, with only occasional breastfeeding.”

“Logan!” you warned. “I’m serious.”

“Look, I just didn’t want to see you running yourself into the ground. It’s stupid that I can literally set money on fire if I want and never even notice but you have to work almost full time on top of taking even more classes than me and getting my dumb ass through Spanish,” he said, not meeting your eyes.

You took his hand and said, “Thank you, but I already got your dumb ass through Spanish.”

He pulled you into a hug and said, “Did I not tell you? I took the second semester. And I’m in your class again! Study buddies, yay!” He picked you up and spun you again.

“Do you mind? I’m gonna hurl if you keep spinning me!”

“OK OK,” he said, putting you down. “Please accept it. I swear I’ll make you earn every penny.”

“If anybody else said that to me I’d think he was propositioning me,” you said, nudging his shoulder.

“Can’t it be both?” he said with a wink. “C’mon, I need to get my books. You can read the intimidating numbers to me. Why didn’t they tell me I needed to know how to read to go to college?”

* * *

This went on until Logan graduated, he decided that he couldn’t possibly pass his classes without you so the Delos foundation paid the remainder of your tuition. When you met his sister Juliet, she told you that her parents considered you the best bargain for babysitting Logan they’d ever had.

When he graduated, he arranged summer paid internships and then you were made an official offer of employment at Delos. You went to Logan and asked if this was a pity job.

“Are you kidding? My dad would rather have you there than me. He keeps asking why we aren’t dating and telling me to marry you.”

“Ha!” you exclaimed in surprise. “We are way too close to date. Besides, you’re too touchy-feely for me.”

“Says the girl sprawled on top of me.”

You half-heartedly shrugged. “You started it years ago.”

You were lying half on top of Logan watching TV in his apartment. You crashed here in the summer during your internships, and the traffic coming through would be enough to make a brothel owner blush.

“Also you’re a slut.”

“Ugh, do you mind not pawing me all the time, Logan?” he imitated in a high-pitched voice. “Ugh, do you mind not having sex with half the city.”

“I don’t sound like that!” you said indignantly. “But you do paw me all the time.”

“Can’t help it. You refused to breastfeed me, now I’m obsessed with tits.”

You rolled your eyes, making sure he was looking first. “Pretty sure you already were. But tell ya what, when I have a kid, I will let you taste my breast milk.”

“From the tap?”

“No!”

“There’s a wasted hard-on.”

“So hard to please.”

“You’ve never even tried!” he said indignantly.

“Ugh do you mind not turning everything into an innuendo? Perv.”

“Says the girl who just offered to breastfeed me.”

* * *

You had been at Delos for six years. You liked the company, but you hated seeing Logan’s relationship with his father deteriorate more and more with each passing year. With every sharp remark from his father you watched the exuberance fade a little more from Logan’s eyes. With every year you watched him become more jaded and his childish love of life dim.

Your relationship with him continued, however. No matter what, you were with Logan. He had you on his team and you were his right hand. You had been offered different positions within the company, and had even been scouted from outside the company a few times. You were loyal to Logan first and Delos second.

* * *

Westworld was a game-changer. Logan became a man possessed; his entire focus was on the playground for the rich. He invested heavily into the place, both Delos corporate funds and his own money. He was taking trips there, both for business and pleasure. You accompanied him on a few business trips but his wildness while in the park was more than you really wanted to see.

He said it mattered even less than the parade of pillow partners he had in the real world. To you it all mattered, because you had broken the cardinal rule of being friends with Logan Delos: you fell in love with him.

* * *

You were at Juliet’s wedding, sipping champagne and watching Logan get drunk at a corner table by himself. Juliet came over to you and you hugged her, wishing her the very best, even if you didn’t believe it was possible. Logan had told you what had happened with Billy at Westworld, and you believed him.

Unfortunately, Juliet hadn’t believed him and had gone ahead with the wedding.

“When are you going to do the right thing and marry my brother?” she asked you.

“Ha very funny, Juliet. You know Logan only sees me as his friend and part-time nanny.”

“I notice you didn’t say you only see him as a friend,” she answered in a leading tone. “And you’re wrong about Logan. He’s been in love with you since college.”

“Bullshit!” you said a hair too loudly, then looked around to see a couple of old ladies looking down their noses at you. “Sorry.”

Juliet laughed and led you a little way farther from them and said, “He adores you. Has since you pulled his ass out of the fire with Spanish. He didn’t realize it, but I knew.”

“Right, Jules, that’s why it’s like twelve years later and he’s still fucking his way through the population of the planet. He goes to Westworld and has orgies with robots because he’s  _madly_  in love with me and can’t have me. He gets drunk and high to dull the  _excruciating_  pain of not having me as his significant other.”

You didn’t notice in your ranting that Juliet’s eyes had gotten wide and she was giving you the hand-signal to be quiet. When you finally figured out what was going on and looked behind you, Logan was looking at you with pain-filled eyes, then turned and walked away to the exit.

You looked at Juliet helplessly. “What have I done?” you whispered.

“Go after him, now!” she said, pushing you to follow him.

“But…” you sputtered.

“Go!” she hissed.

* * *

Logan was at the elevator, punching the button repeatedly while he jerked his bow tie off. His every movement screamed anger and embarrassment.

“Logan,” you said quietly, gently laying your hand on his shoulder.

He shrugged off your touch, saying, “Don’t…don’t touch me. I wouldn’t want to get any of my slut germs on you. Y’know, since I’m fucking my way through the Earth’s population and all.”

“Logan, you don’t understand…” you began.

The elevator doors opened and Logan stepped inside. You followed him in just as the doors were closing.

“Fuck, Y/N, leave me alone. I heard your opinion of me.”

“No, you didn’t!” you snapped back. “You heard my sarcastic response to your sister saying you were in love with me.”

Logan refused to meet your eyes and remained stubbornly silent.

“Logan…do you love me?” you whispered, thinking through all the sweet, kind things he’d done for you, and how he never asked for anything in return.

“It doesn’t matter, Y/N,” he replied, looking defeated.

“Yes, it does!” you said, frustrated.

The elevator reached Logan’s floor and you followed him to his hotel room.

When you pushed into his room behind him he said, “Jesus, Y/N, go away.”

“No, not until you tell me the truth and  _listen to me!_ ”

Logan spun around and pressed you to the door with his body and cradled your face in his hands, lowering his mouth to yours and kissing you with all the love and longing he had been hiding from you for over a decade.

When he pulled away, your eyes were still closed. “There’s your truth, Y/N,” he said. “I love you and I have been fucking my way across the planet because I can never have the one person I have loved for my entire adult life.”

You opened your eyes and looked into his, their deep brown color almost black with desire.

“You are the one person I would want to be faithful to and I know that you could never want me because you have seen me at my worst. So, put in for whatever job you want and I’ll approve the transfer for you since I’m sure you won’t want to work with me anymore.”

He pulled away from you, leaving you breathing heavily and leaning against the door. He turned and walked toward the bedroom of his suite and said, “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Logan!” you called, hurrying up to follow him into his room and throwing yourself into his arms, kissing the breath out of him.

When you pulled apart, Logan’s smile had the same brilliance and joy to it that it had when you first met him.

“You’ll be faithful?” you asked in a breathless voice.

Logan’s eyes widened and he nodded his head. “I promise.”

You looked at him for another moment, then turned away.

Logan’s face fell.

“I always have trouble undoing this zipper,” you said, looking over your shoulder at him. “Do you mind?”


	19. Jet Black Heart

 

You had this hate/hate relationship with Logan Delos. He was the rich boy owner’s son who never had to work for anything his entire life. You were the scholarship kid who worked your ass off for everything you had.

Yeah, you probably had a chip on your shoulder, but he had been born with a silver spoon and you hated guys like that: Legacies who never earned a goddamn thing in their lives.

Yeah, you might have hated him on principle.

Logan, on the other hand, hated you because you were a stuck-up ass kisser. You were also generally a bitch, and he wasn’t shy about telling you so. He wished he had some grounds to get your ass fired, but sadly, disliking Logan was not an offense worthy of termination, much as he thought it should be.

It all came to a head one day before a meeting when he overheard you referring to him as “Satan with the jet black eyes to match his jet black heart.” He called you the “Ice Princess with the ice cold heart to match her ice cold cunt.”

Needless to say, you had both been called to HR.

He had never celebrated quite as much as the day you had been promoted – to an office on the other coast. He actually sent you an enormous bouquet of Hortensia Hydrangeas with a card that read, “Ding Dong, the witch is dead! Enjoy the weather, Ice Princess!” The message didn’t seem quite rude enough, so you looked up the meaning of the flowers. Cold. Heartless.

_Way to embrace symbolism, Logan_ , you thought.

You returned the favor by renting a billboard near Delos with his picture advertising a drug for erectile dysfunction.

Logan had actually laughed when he saw it.  _Well played, Y/N,_  he thought.

At least you could admire each other’s cunning if nothing else.

After that, things settled down. You rarely had to deal with even the mention of his name let alone the man himself. You both found it much easier to be civil in small doses than in daily contact. When you had to be in the same vicinity, you kept your distance and spoke not at all.

Until you had to.

You were going to Stockholm to meet with a potential investor and you were part of a five person team that was going to dazzle your way into their bank accounts. Unfortunately, Logan was also on the team, but with three other people to insulate you, you had high hopes that you could work together long enough to survive this.

You arrived two days before the meeting to put together the presentation with the rest of the team. You had your numbers and data ready and had booked a small business conference room at the hotel where you were staying.

When you went to the conference room, you were the only one there. You checked your email and found that three other team members were not going to be able to join you until the next day, if that soon. There had been a security incident in London and there was no traffic in or out. And that left you to do the presentation with –

“Good morning, Princess.”

“Noooo,” you said, turning to the door.

“Yeah, I was thrilled when I read my email this morning, too.”

You took a deep breath. “This. Is. A. Nightmare.”

“Tell me about it. You’re probably the last person in the world I want to work one on one with, but _c’est la vie_.”

“Wow, you can be a dick in two languages,” you sneered.

Logan opened his mouth to snap back and stopped himself. He closed his eyes for a moment and them opened them and said, “Look, we both know that this isn’t ideal. But, we’re here to do a job, so let’s call a truce, both of us behave and get this over with.”

You studied him for a moment to see if he meant what he said, then replied, “Yeah, alright. How should we attack this?”

* * *

You sat down, got a conference call going with the other team members and had them email everything the could to you and Logan, then divided the work and got to it. It was going to be a long couple days and you didn’t have time for petty backbiting.

And Logan was more than pulling his weight. You had always assumed that he had risen to his position within the company because of his last name. And his father was always so hard on him that you assumed that there had to be a basis in fact. But he was smart, quick and hard-working when the situation called for it

For his part, Logan had always assumed that you were fucking his father or someone pretty high up the corporate ladder for you to have gotten to the position you did in the amount of time you had. Even his psycho brother-in-law Billy hadn’t had such a meteoric rise with the corporation.

Logan had to give credit to whomever had recruited you. After working with you for a day, Logan could admit that you were obviously in your position because of what was between your ears, not what was between your legs.

Logan looked at his watch. “Hey, it’s been like seven hours since those sandwiches we had. Wanna call it a day and get some dinner?”

You looked up at him from your computer screen. “With you?” you asked with disbelief in your voice.

“Whatever,” he snapped. “I thought we were being grownups.”

“No! I…I was just surprised. Yeah, let me go take my contacts out though, OK? My eyes have been screaming for hours.”

“OK, I’ll call a car. Do you…what do you eat?”

“Ah food?”

“I meant…”

“What, did you think we’d need to swing by a blood bank to pick me up a few bags of O- for dinner?” you said with a smile.

Logan laughed. “You’re funny when you’re not renting billboards.”

You smiled. “I was especially proud of that. And I will eat pretty much anything. Not so much raw fish though, OK?”

“OK, I won’t dump you off a pier,” he agreed cheerfully.

“Well, not alive at least. Right?” you said with a wink as you left the room.

You went to the elevator and pushed the button, still smiling as you got in to go up to your room.

Then it hit you… _holy shit, were you just flirting with Logan Delos?_

* * *

_Holy shit,_  Logan thought.  _Was I just flirting with Y/N Y/L/N?_

* * *

Logan took you to a really nice restaurant and you had a couple glasses of wine with your meal. You had an actual conversation, which was very very strange.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?” he answered, looking over the dessert menu. He wasn’t a huge sweet eater but they had a really delightful pastry chef and he usually succumbed when he dined there.

You hesitated a moment, causing him to look up from the menu. “What’s up?”

“Did we decide we hate each other for no actual reason? I don’t even remember…”

“Honestly? I got hostility from you from day one,” he said quietly. “I never knew what I did but c’mon, it’s me. I’m a fuckup. I figured I did something,” he finished with a shrug.

“You didn’t,” you said quietly, looking down at the table. “I decided I didn’t like you before I even met you, if I’m honest.”

“Most people do wait until they’ve met me to despise me,” he agreed casually.

“So, I can’t take back the billboard,” you said with a rueful smile, “but I’m sorry I was such a bitch.”

“Hey, I was a bitch right back,” he said, and you both chuckled. “I should have been more gracious. You were the new kid and I have since learned that what goes around, comes around. So, I’m sorry, too.”

“Wow. We just had a real breakthrough,” you said with a self-deprecating grin. “Should we hug or call our therapists or something?”

“Let’s not go overboard. We may wind up legitimately hating each other after a couple more days of working together,” he said with a wink.

* * *

You wound up legitimately liking each other, spending nearly every waking moment together while you were in Stockholm. The rest of the team was stranded in London when travel got backed up after the incident was handled and the borders opened up. By the time they were able to get out, you and Logan had the entire presentation ready to go and just handled it on your own.

And you smashed it.

You went out to dinner together to celebrate your new client before heading back to your respective offices the next day. You had never laughed so genuinely or so much in a man’s company. Perhaps something about the absolute loathing you had felt for each other in the past gave you a certain amount of freedom in your newfound friendship.

You actually hugged each other goodbye after dinner, prepared to get early starts the next morning.

* * *

Suddenly, an email from Logan wasn’t something to roll your eyes at and push off until later, but an immediate read. Sometimes it was all business, sometimes it was just to say hi. Then you started texting occasionally, at first on a business pretext but eventually just to chat.

You found yourself attending more meetings at the home office, and Logan seemed to have to be at your office frequently. He had an office in your building but he used it so rarely that it had always been a formality that you resented because it had a better view than yours.

Whenever either of you were visiting the other’s office, you would have dinner or lunch.

Phone calls instead of emails became ‘more convenient.’ Then that, too, turned into chatting and you would stay up too late or wake him too early because of the time difference.

You jokingly referred to each other by some of the insults you had thrown each other in the past. He called you Princess and you called him Satan. It was all in fun, now, mixed with some affection.

* * *

In fact, you were beginning to worry that it was more than affection you felt for Logan. You were back to the mothership for a series of meetings and some training. You were sitting on the sofa in his office when you told him that you were tired and didn’t want to go out to dinner, you were just going to order room service.

“No, Y/N, we never see each other!” he protested. “How about you come over to my place and we’ll order pizza and watch TV?”

“Seriously?” you asked.

“Yeah, it’ll be great,” he said jovially, but you thought there was a touch of nervousness there, too.

“That’d be great. I’ll just swing by the hotel and get something more comfortable than this,” you said, indicating your business suit.

“Nah, I have something you can wear,” he said as if it was a foregone conclusion.

You chuckled, “Thanks, but I’d rather not dress from your “One Night Stand Lost and Found” box, thanks.”

“Oh ha ha. I was just gonna loan you some gym shorts and a shirt.”

“Oh trying to get me into your clothes?” you said in a saucy, flirty tone.  _Oops_ , you thought.

“Whatever works to get you out of yours,” he responded in a deep, seductive voice.

“Oh,” you whispered, meeting his eyes and seeing desire in their jet black depths.

Logan stood up and walked over to the sofa and sat down next to you, reaching over to take your hand. “I’ve been wondering if you were seeing anyone?”

“Seeing? Like…dating?”

“Dating, sleeping with…”

You took a deep breath and said, “No, I kind of have a teenybopper crush on a co-worker that I doubt can go anywhere.”

He reached up and stroked your hair a bit and whispered back, “Why’s that?”

“He’s something of a player. I don’t think he could just be with me and I don’t share,” you said honestly.

“What if he wanted to be just yours?” he said, looking down.

“I would then point out that we live on different coasts and that long distance relationships rarely work,” you said as you placed your hand on his cheek. “And…no way to say this nicely so I’ll just say it…trust would be difficult knowing what I know.”

Logan nodded. “I get it,” he said with a smile.

“I think I’ll just do room service at my hotel, OK?”

“Yeah, OK,” he said, still smiling but the expression in his eyes told a different story.

* * *

You finished out your meetings and said you’d reschedule the training and went home the next day instead of staying the two extra days. You didn’t want to see Logan and regret your decision any longer than you had to.

Of course, you still regretted your decision back in your own office – perhaps more so since your communication with Logan had been cut back to business minimum.  _What did you expect, Y/N? For him to just act like nothing had changed?_  you thought to yourself over and over.

Of course, you hadn’t sent him any messages beyond the business minimum, either. You just didn’t know how to go from enemies to friends to wanting more to not giving it a chance back to friends. Was there even a process for this?

In any case, you still had work that did not involve pining away for a man you didn’t have the courage even to try for something with. You went back to your life before Stockholm, wishing you still had a deep, abiding hatred for Logan Delos.

* * *

A few days later, you were heading to your office, eyes on your phone as you went when something caught your eye and you stopped to look. What the hell was IT doing in Logan’s office?

“Um, what are you guys doing?” you called into the office.

“We have a work order to install a full office with top level equipment,” one of the guys said.

“What? Why? Who authorized this?”

From behind you, you heard a voice say, “Satan with the jet black heart, reporting for duty.”

You spun around and gaped at Logan, weighed down with his briefcase and a couple suitcases.

“What are you doing?” you whispered.

“Moving in. Mind if I set this stuff down?”

“Oops!” you said, moving out of the way to let him go and drop his things off on the sofa.

“I’ll be in Ms. Y/L/N’s office if you need anything,” he said to the IT employees.

You walked down the hallway to your office, a few doors down from Logan’s, asked your assistant not to disturb you and stepped inside.

“You said long distance relationships don’t work,” he said immediately upon closing the door. “It occurs to me now that I probably should have been sure you were referring to me in that conversation. Because I transferred here.”

“What?” you practically shrieked, surprise, excitement and trepidation all warring within you. “You moved all the way across the country for me?”

“If living in the same zip code is what you need to give me a shot, then I am here. I want to be with you and I willing to do what it takes to get you to give us a chance.”

You threw yourself into Logan’s arms and you just held each other for a few moments, then you pulled back to look into his dark eyes. He waited a few moments before he slowly lowered his lips to yours, and you stood on tiptoes to meet him halfway. All of the passion from your early anger combined with the genuine affection, respect and desire you had for each other to make it the best kiss you had ever experienced.

When you finally broke apart, panting from lack of air, you smiled and said, “Well. That has potential.”

Logan laughed and said, “Oh, thanks. I throw my heart at your feet and you say it has potential.”

You put your hand on his cheek and said seriously, “Logan, I have been kicking myself for being such a coward. I am crazy about you and I have missed the hell out of you since I came home. I also so glad you’re here and I am throwing my heart right back at you.”

He hugged you close and said, “Well, that is all I could ever hope for,” he said, dropping a kiss to your temple.

“Really? Coz I am dying to get you into bed,” you said with an eyebrow wiggle.

Logan threw his head back and laughed uproariously. “Well, sweetheart, I just can’t say no to you, so the only question now is my place or yours? Because I have a place here now.”

“Yeah, you do. And I am so, so happy about that.”


	20. Cookies and Cocoa

 

Logan had never been so nervous in his life.  

OK, he’d been pretty nervous when he had taken you to meet his family. There had been murder in your eyes when his father had asked, “Now what’s a smart girl like you doing with a wee cheeky cunt like Logan, eh?”

Logan had choked on his whiskey when you had replied, “Mostly thanking God that he took after his mother right this minute.”

James Delos had narrowed his eyes and said, “Well, I suppose one of you has to have some balls in the relationship.”

You had leaned forward as you stroked Logan’s upper thigh and said, “Trust me, Logan’s packing plenty. Looking at you though, do you ever wonder if his mother jumped the fence?” you asked in a confidential tone. “Coz it makes way more sense than you producing this fine ass man right here.”

Juliet’s eyes looked like they might pop out of her face, William almost had a hungry look about him and Logan…well, your love had to cross his legs because he was actually sporting wood.

“Dad, why don’t we –” Juliet attempted to turn the conversation.

“Who d’you fuckin’ think you are talking like that to me in my own house?” he growled.

You shrugged. “Someone not in your employ and not angling to be in your will. I’m here as a courtesy to your son and Juliet. I don’t care if you like me because you don’t like Logan. Logan wanted me to meet you first before he went through the emotional upheaval of meeting my family. See, he doesn’t think he’s good enough for me. Where would the wee cheeky cunt get such an outlandish idea?” you asked with transparently fake innocence.

“I didn’t say he was a wee  _stupid_  cunt,” James said viciously.

“In any case, I met the ogre so now I can convince my Prince Kinda Charming,” you said with a wink to Logan, “that I don’t scare so easily.”

“Are you gonna let her treat me this way, Logan?”

“I’m just a wee cheeky cunt. What can I do?” Logan said happily.

“Juliet, I have twin nieces that are just a few months older than Emily, I would love to have you meet my family.”

“After me, of course. Make sure they can tolerate my wee cheeky cuntiness,” Logan interjected.

“They’ll love you because I do,” you said, kissing him gently and ignoring James’ meltdown in progress. “Nice to meet you, Juliet.” You deliberately paused to make it clear that the others were not included in that statement. “Mr. Delos, William.”

Then you linked arms with Logan and took him home to make him cookies and cocoa.

* * *

The first time Logan had come to your place in a fury over something his father had done, he was searching for anything alcoholic to drink. You weren’t even dating yet, but had been friends for ages and both knew that there was  _something_  there. Logan showing up at your place when he was upset rather than going looking for a party had been a turning point in your relationship.

“Logan, I don’t actually have anything. I don’t drink much and you never come over. But I think I have something better. C’mon,” you’d coaxed, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the kitchen.

And you had made cookies together. Logan helped and he licked the beaters, then while they were in the oven you had made some hot chocolate from scratch.

“Marshmallows or whipped cream?” you asked Logan after you put the cocoa into a cup.

“Marshmallows,” he answered quietly, surprised that the act of making the treats with you had already calmed him.

You put some warm cookies on a plate, got a tray out and loaded it up with the steaming mugs, cookies, spoons and extra marshmallows and the can of whipped cream. Then you went to the sofa, cuddled up next to Logan and put on the director’s cut of  _The Fellowship of the Ring_.

Logan sipped his cocoa and said, “This is delicious, Y/N. Thank you for making it.”

“There’s a secret ingredient,” you said with a wink.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” he asked with a contented smile.

“Love,” you said, stretching your neck to brush your lips across his.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said seriously. 

He had said it before, but this time there was more to it. “I love you, too, Logan,” you answered just as seriously. “Don’t you forget it.”

He gave you a squeeze and another kiss. “I won’t.”

“And maybe later we can do something naughty with the whipped cream,” you said in a seductive voice.

“First thing I thought of when you got it out of the fridge,” he said with a chuckle, then he turned a bit apprehensive. “So…we’re doing this? Being together?”

“I was afraid to mess up our friendship, but I really want to be with you, yeah,” you answered honestly. “I don’t just love you as a friend.”

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. 

You picked up your mug and tapped it against his in a toast. “To love and taking chances.”

“To falling in love with your best friend,” Logan whispered back, before kissing you passionately and definitely not just in a friendly manner.

* * *

After that, Logan found that his father’s criticism didn’t cut him quite so deeply. Your mere presence soothed him, but when he had a really bad day, cookies and cocoa were just the ticket. The action of making them together, cuddling and kissing and being together afterwards was therapeutic for Logan. The whipped cream portion of the festivities were also enjoyable.

* * *

You were taking Logan to meet your parents. It was their 35th anniversary and your siblings and you were throwing them a party. You had flown in a few days before the event to let Logan meet them before he would meet the entire family.

You were approaching your parents’ home in your rental car. It was cold and snowy and the roads were a bit slick, but you knew that the driving conditions weren’t the reason Logan was white-knuckling it in the passenger seat.

“They’re gonna love you, honey,” you said, reaching across the console to hold his hand.

“What if they don’t?” he asked quietly.

You shrugged. “Then they don’t. Won’t change the fact that I do.”

* * *

They loved him.

Of course they loved him. You loved him, so that would have been enough, but Logan was charming and funny and obviously adored you. That was all they wanted for you.

After you had fallen asleep that night, though, Logan was restless. He couldn’t help but feel that maybe his father was right. Why would a beautiful, wonderful woman like you want a wee cheeky cunt like him?

He gently pulled away from you and left you sleeping peacefully, then wandered downstairs to the kitchen to look out the window into the silent, snowy night.

He started a bit when you slid your arms around him, then realized it was you and relaxed, turning to face you.

“I woke up and my cuddle buddy was missing,” you said after he kissed you. “What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing. Just couldn’t fall asleep.”

You looked at him and knew he was worried, and you knew why. Telling him that the rest of your family would live him as much as your parents did wouldn’t help, you’d said it already.

This called for something stronger than words.

You stepped out of his arms and walked to the oven to start preheating and then began gathering ingredients.

“Hon, it’s almost 2 am.”

“Yup,” you agreed, continuing getting everything together.

Logan smiled and came over to help you make cookies and cocoa, knowing that after he drank some of the magical brew everything would be alright because of the special ingredient you added to the mix: love.


	21. Love Her Madly

 

“I love her,” Logan said. “I love her madly. Or have I just g-gone mad? I think I’m probably ma ma ma mad mad.”

Logan had worked himself free of the ropes William had tied him to the saddle with, but with absolutely no idea where he was or where to go, he had let the horse choose, figuring that he’d be rescued eventually. When the horse dropped dead and Logan had tumbled from its back, though, he began to think that maybe he wouldn’t be rescued.

He had already been weak and dehydrated from Billy’s forced march, so the naked horse tour had not gone well. Logan was roasting and freezing, his skin blistered from the sun and raw from the sand whipping against it.

Now he was going to die in a fucking game.

Logan had a lot of time to think out there, leaning against the tree he had crawled to and collapsed against. He thought about things he had done, choices he had made, people he had known and mistakes he had made.

The biggest mistake might seem to be hiring William, but even having his balls polished in the sandy wind, he regretted losing you more.

* * *

You had been at a party together and Logan had been glad-handing as usual. You stayed with him until you had excused yourself when you saw a friend you wanted to speak to. With a peck to the cheek you had been off, and he had smiled fondly at your retreating form.

You were not his usual type. You were exuberant and had such joy about you. There was no false boredom or pretense to you. You were always supportive and kind and made Logan feel special.

Logan didn’t quite know what to do with you most of the time, to be honest.

You’d been gone for a while so Logan went looking for you. He finally glance at the balcony and saw you leaning against it talking to a man he didn’t know – a very handsome man. At another time, Logan might have invited him to join the two of you in bed. Now, though, he only felt a completely foreign emotion: jealousy.

He slipped out onto the patio and shamelessly eavesdropped on your conversation.

“You know he’ll never settle down, don’t you?” he’d asked quietly.

“He might,” you’d replied defensively.

“Gonna tell him?”

“‘Logan, I’m madly in love with you?’ Not so much. He’d do a cartoon escape leaving a Logan-shaped hole in the wall,” you’d said dryly.

“Do you really?”

“Love him madly? Yeah, yeah I do,” you’d answered quietly.

* * *

_Logan, I’m madly in love with you_. It played on a loop in Logan’s head, over and over as he distractedly returned to the party and put his arm around your waist when you’d rejoined him.

At least he knew he had no reason to be jealous.

As he drove you home, the words were still ringing in his ears.

“Hey, are you OK, babe?” you asked, squeezing his hand.

The squeeze brought him out of his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said quickly. “Just a little tired.”

“Oh, OK. I was asking if you wanted to come up,” you said tentatively.

“Ah, no,” he responded, quickly falling back on his old reflexes. “I have an early meeting tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday, Logan.”

“Oh. Right. Well, the financial world never rests, right?”

“Sure. Are you sure you’re OK? You’ve been a little weird…”

“I’m fine. Maybe I just don’t want to spend every goddamn waking moment listening to you babble,” he sneered.

“Logan!” you exclaimed, hurt. “Well, tell ya what. I won’t put you through that agony anymore. Bye,” you’d growled, temper getting the best of you.

“Whatever. I can replace you tomorrow.”

You hurried to open the car door and scramble out. “I bet you can. In fact, you’ve probably already been interviewing candidates. I am so stupid.”

“You said it, sweetheart,” he growled. “Trust me, their resumes are a lot more impressive than yours, too.”

You didn’t even dignify that with an answer, afraid he’d hear the tears in your voice. You slammed his car door as hard as you could, determined not to watch him drive away. You walked inside with your head held high.

* * *

That had been his version of a cartoon escape. He’d regretted it before he even put the car back in Drive, but he didn’t know how to apologize. Delos men didn’t do that sort of thing.

As he drifted back into awareness of his surroundings, Logan remembered the old Hans Christian Andersen story  _The Little Matchstick Girl_  and likened his behavior to hers, using visions of something better to distract him from his present circumstances. Only, instead of dreams of beautiful things he had never experienced, Logan was seeing memories of you.

He knew it was only an illusion, but you felt so very real…

* * *

Logan heard the most enchanting laugh. It caught his attention because it didn’t sound forced or faked. Was that an actual joyous laugh? He turned to find the source.

Juliet was talking to you and you were both laughing so happily. Logan decided he needed to meet you. He had gone over and put his arm around his sister’s shoulders in a half hug, forcing her to introduce you or seem rude. Logan had spent the rest of the evening talking to you, and oh what a breath of fresh air you were in his jaded, dismal world!

Juliet had given him a few looks while you two were chatting, but he had ignored it. He couldn’t ignore her the next day when she threatened his life if he screwed you over. He’d said he wouldn’t, he really liked you. He’d even played the hurt card, sad that she thought he’d disrespect his own sister that way.

She’d never really forgiven him for crushing you.

* * *

“I’m s-sorry sorry sorry Jules,” he muttered, half-aware. “I lo-love love her madly. Madly.”

Was that you coming toward him? You were wearing that shirt of his you had stolen after the first time you’d had sex. It just barely reached your thighs and he had pulled it up while he kissed you and caressed your ass. You had wound up spending nearly the entire weekend in his bed, ordering food and taking naps in between rounds of mind-blowing sex.

If Logan had been honest with himself, he would have known that he was already in love with you then.

* * *

“Love her madly, love her madly,” he chanted like a mantra. The Ghost Nationer had given him a blanket but he was still shivering.

You had always been cold. You’d called him your personal space heater, curling up next to him or on him, sticking your feet under his butt on the sofa while you watched TV, putting your hand in his jacket pocket when you went out.

He’d acted like it bothered him, but he had secretly loved that he kept you warm. It made him feel like he was a caveman providing for his woman or something, primal.

“Love her madly, love her madly…”

* * *

You had just been allowed to enter Logan’s hospital room. Juliet had called you, asking you to come and you had nearly told her no. But…this was Logan. You were still in love with him, despite the pain he had caused you and the months that had passed.

Your friends had told you to start dating again. Hell, even Juliet told you to let go, that he was wild and more out-of-control than she had ever seen him. She was blunt about it too, telling you about the orgies and parade of partners that he’d had since you broke up. She did admit, though, to being surprised. As far as she knew, Logan had been happy with you.

“All he’s said is your name and ‘love her madly’ over and over,” Juliet said, worry evident. “The doctors don’t know why he won’t come around. They thought that maybe if the person he was asking for came…”

You nodded and went over to the bed. Logan’s nose and cheeks and forehead were raw and peeling, his lips recovering from being cracked and blistered as well. His eyes rolled back and forth under his lids and his mouth chanted the same words, your name and 'love her madly.’

They had found him lost in the desert, naked and badly dehydrated. By the time Juliet had called you, he had been in and out of consciousness for three days. She knew how painful the breakup had been for you but she was desperate.

“Logan,” you said softly, “it’s me, Y/N. C’mon, wake up, lazybones.”

* * *

_Wake up, lazybones,_  you said as you woke him with kisses. “Big plans, remember? Gotta buy a baby gift for Richard’s new baby!”

“Ugh, why do I have to go?” he said, burying his head under a pillow.

“Because you do, now get moving!” you’d said. “Don’t make me tickle you!”

“No! No, I’m getting up. Well, parts of me are. How about we have a nice morning romp before we shop?” he said, pulling you into bed and rolling on top of you.

“That sounds like a really good compromise,” you sighed as he kissed your neck.

* * *

“Logan, Juliet said you wanted me. Here I am,” you said a little louder.

He continued mumbling, your name and the repeated 'love her madly’ still his only words. You crawled into bed with him and whispered in his ear, “Remember that time we went to see a movie and got thrown out because some uptight bitch saw me giving you head? Or when you had me bent over in a bathroom at your dad’s house and he came looking for us?” You caressed his beard as you used to, hoping that some combination of your voice and your touch would wake him.

“Why did you dump me, Logan? The more I thought about it, the more it seemed intentional, like you were trying to pick a fight. But I thought we were happy. I loved you. Hell, I still love you. How pathetic is that?”

Logan stopped chanting,as if he was listening to you. You looked over at Juliet and saw the hope on her face. You looked back down at Logan and saw that his eyes were still instead of rolling back and forth as if in constant R.E.M.

“Logan,” you said a bit louder. “Wake up! I want to see those big brown puppy eyes of yours.”

* * *

_Big brown puppy eyes_. “Logan, quit being a big baby and using those big brown puppy eyes on me. We have to go to dinner with Juliet and William.”

“I don’t wanna go,” he said mulishly. “I see her all the time and I have to look at his stupid face every day at work.”

“Would you do it for a Scooby snack?”

“Ha ha.”

You sat down next to him and ran your fingers lightly up his inner thigh. “Would you do it for an A+ blow job, where I do that thing that makes you cum so hard you see your life flash before your eyes?”

“Now?” he asked hopefully.

“After. If you’re a good boy.”

“What will you do if I’m not?” he said against your lips, trying to seduce you into bed instead of dinner.

“Tie you to the bed and not let you cum for hours and hours,” you whispered as you palmed his cock through his trousers.

“Sounds like a win/win to me.”

“Then just do it for me,” you said.

Logan chuckled and stood up. “Now who’s using the puppy dog eyes?”

* * *

“Logan, you need to wake up now,” you said on your normal voice, then dropped it to a whisper again. “If you do and you want me to, I’ll do that thing where you cum so hard you see your life flash before your eyes.”

“Now?” he whispered, then sluggishly opened his eyes.

“After, if you’re a good boy,” you said with a laugh. Then your smile ran away from your face as you remembered that you weren’t together anymore. “Sorry, I’ll get off you.”

“No,” he said, pulling you back weakly. “Please stay.”

You smiled at him and said, “I’ll stay, but I better get off you. Since you’re back with us the doctors will want to check you out.”

Juliet came over, tears streaking her cheeks. “You had me scared to death,” she said as she hugged her brother.

“Sorry, Jules. Can I have a drink?”

“Sure. Y/N, wanna get him a drink while I get the nurse?” she said, deliberately leaving you alone. She had never seen two people better together or more miserable apart, and she was determined to see you reconcile.

You got the water cup from his nightstand and held it for him. When he had drank a bit, you put the cup back and started to step back but he grabbed your hand quickly.

“I’m so sorry I was such an asshole. You were all I could think about and I just kept thinking how bad I fucked up.”

“Why did you do it, Logan?”

“I overheard you talking to your friend and made a Logan-shaped hole in the wall,” he said ashamedly.

You puzzled over his words for a moment and then gasped and covered your mouth in embarrassment. “You heard me say…”

“That you loved me madly, yeah,” he finished. “And I got scared. And I ran.”

“And broke my goddamn heart!” you said angrily. “I agonized for months wondering what the fuck I had done wrong, you asshole!”

“I know, I’m sorry!”

“So what, why were you saying my name? Guilt?”

“I said your name?”

“Y’know, I think Juliet should be the one…”

“Please, Y/N. I almost died and all I could think about was that I loved you and I ruined what we had. So yeah, it would make sense if I said your name.”

“Loved, past tense?”

“Past, present and future. Infinitive. All the tenses. I love you, Y/N. Please give me another chance. I won’t fuck it up this time because I know what I want now,” he pleaded.

You quickly wiped away a tear. “And what’s that?”

“You. To be with you, forever.”

You looked at him for a while, obviously considering all the pain he had put you through.

“Please, Y/N, I’m begging here,” he whispered.

You sniffed and said, “OK, but only because you made up a fourth verb tense for me. That’s love right there.”

Logan laughed happily and said, “Really? You’re gonna give me another chance?”

You keaned over and kissed him gently. “I’m madly in love with you, Logan. That doesn’t go away because I got hurt. I’ll always love you, baby.”

“I’ll always love you, too. Madly.”


	22. Wanted

 

You were in a saloon in a dusty little village in Westworld. Your guide had been killed and you had narrowly escaped capture. This was your second trip, but the first time you had stayed in Sweetwater and its outskirts the entire time, not to mention you had been there with your cousin Danny. He had been to the park a few times and knew the ropes, so he kept you pretty close to the start. You wanted adventure without someone who treated you like a baby sister watching every move you made, though, so you had booked a solo trip.

And while you had been on the Babysitter’s Club tour of Westworld, the most exciting thing that had happened had been when Hector Escaton had ridden into town with his gang and shot up the saloon, apparently trying to steal the contents of a safe. You had only seen him briefly but you were almost certain that he had just strutted into this dinky little cantina.

Same dark good looks, same lean muscular build, same confident swagger, same black get-up. You were sure it was him – and you were going to collect that bounty!

* * *

You watched him furtively, wondering if his gang was with him or he was meeting them soon. You would need to get the drop on him and get him away if this was where he was to meet them; you certainly didn’t want to tangle with them all at once.

You saw him head over to a table and toss his hat down, running his hand through his sweaty black hair. The saloon girl came over and draped herself across him and you heard her ask what he’d like, and it was very heavily implied that she hoped he would request her. She seemed disappointed when he asked for whiskey and sent her on her way with a generous tip.

Fuck, he was gorgeous. He hadn’t removed his hat when you had seen him in Sweetwater before so you hadn’t gotten a good look at his face, and it was fucking perfect. They should list that on his wanted poster; it was as deadly as the gun he wore strapped to his waist.

You swore under your breath when you realized he had caught you staring. His whiskey had been delivered and he poured a shot and tipped it in your direction in a salute before he downed it. You decided to flirt since you blew your cover.

You sent him a wink and a smile and before you knew it, he was up and across the room to your table. “Mind if I join you, darlin?” he asked in a deep, suave voice.

You gave him a smirk and said, “I’m going to head back to my room in a little bit, but you’re welcome to join me.”

“Join you here or in your room?” he asked with a naughty smile.

You shrugged and said, “Who knows? Maybe both.”

He grinned and said, “So, darlin, what’s your name?” as he sat down next to you.

“Y/N. What’s yours?”

“Logan,” he replied smoothly. Must be an alias he used frequently.

“Well, Logan,” you began in what you hoped was a seductive tone, “how about you come back to my room and wash my back, then I tie you to the bed and lick every last inch of you?”

“That sounds like the best thing to happen all year, actually,” he answered with a dazzling smile.

* * *

You led ‘Logan’ to your room. It was a far cry from your suite in Sweetwater, but it was private. You started kissing and pulling each other’s clothes off and you decided that there might be another reward to this adventure than just the bounty. Whoever designed him gave him all the kissing skills and he knew exactly how to touch you; you wanted to see what else he was programmed to do.

You hadn’t come to Westworld to sample the hosts, though you knew that a lot of people came exclusively for that. Most of them had no spark to them, but there was something about Hector that got to you. He was more than just physically beautiful, the way he carried himself had such an alpha male air to it; he even strutted rather than walked.

You ran a bath and when you bent over to test the water, you felt his hands on your hips while he ground his dripping cock against your ass. He slid one hand around to your pussy to tease you and you groaned and reached between your legs to grab his cock and place it at your entrance.

He pushed in and filled you, giving you a moment to adjust and then started moving. Everything he did was perfect, like he could read your body and knew exactly what would please you most. Before you knew it you were screaming unintelligibly in the most exquisite orgasm of your life, Hector slamming into you erratically until he came deep inside you with a series of grunts and growls.

He pulled you back against his chest and kissed you, your legs shaking and both of you panting for breath. “Goddamn,” you whispered. “That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt.”

He kissed your nose and grinned. “Night’s young, darlin.”

“Can’t wait. I’m dying to know how you taste,” you said against his lips.

You felt his fingers slide between your legs to gather some of your combined juices and brought it to your joined lips, both of you licking them clean. “Delicious,” you purred, “but I still want to taste it fresh from the tap.”

“Fuck,” he hissed. “I think I’m gonna need something other than you to eat to satisfy you all night long.”

You kissed him again and then held onto him while you climbed into the tub. “You said you’d wash my back.”

“You gonna wash my front?” he asked in a cheeky tone.

“Tongue bath.”

“Fuck,” he hissed again as he climbed in behind you.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. I want to make you feel good, too,” you whispered.

“I felt great, darlin,” he whispered back. “But you are more than welcome to keep at it for as long as you want.”

You stood up and stepped behind him, scooting him forward as you began to soap him all over, needing to feel every bit of his skin. He sighed blissfully as you had him lean back so you could wash his hair, then you pulled the plug and dried him off before you led him to the bed and pushed him back so you could admire him.

“You’re perfect,” you marveled as you ran your fingers lightly over his chest. “Like someone reached into my imagination and found my ideal man.”

He looked at you strangely. “What an odd thing to say,” he commented quietly.

You shook off the feeling and gave him a lopsided grin, then straddled his lap and kissed him, hot and wet, tongues sparring as you rubbed your breasts against his chest.

He ran his hands down your back and grabbed handfuls of your ass and squeezed. “You’re pretty fucking flawless, yourself, darlin,” he groaned as you started kissing and biting down his neck to his chest.

You left countless suck marks on his torso, experimenting with taste and elasticity but being unable to distinguish between his skin and other men you had nibbled in the past, except perhaps that he was the most splendid looking man you had ever seen.

He groaned and caressed your hair, cock as stiff as he could remember it being since he was a teenager. There was something uninhibited about you, something that they had captured in you that he had never seen in a host before. It was like you were …enthralled…with his body. And despite how you were setting him on fire with want, you had an almost innocence to you that made him feel less jaded, somehow.

You were enthusiastically sucking the skin of his lower abdomen now, digging your nails into his skin enough to sting without hurting him, then started lapping your way down his treasure trail, pumping his cock with your hand while you continued exploring him with your mouth.

When you decided to get your lips and tongue in on the action on his cock he almost went through the roof. “Darlin’, you are the sexiest…Jesus…fuck…”

You hummed around the head, still stroking him while you sucked and bobbed. When you felt him reach the moment when he was going to blow, you wrapped your lips around the head and flicked your tongue, rapidly jerking him until he came hard, a little cum escaping your sealed lips.

When he calmed, you said, “You’re delicious.”

He laughed and said, “Christ, I feel like a teenager blowing my load without even trying to make you feel good.”

“I feel fine, sweetheart.”

“Gonna make you feel better than fine,” he said, turning you onto your back and returning the favors you gave him, exploring your body thoroughly before going down on you so ravenously and giving you so much pleasure that you thought you may have seen God.

“Fuck, sweetheart, keep eating pussy like that and it will be the end of society as we know it!”

Logan chuckled and crawled up next to you to pull you close. “Baby, I plan to dump at least a half dozen more loads inside you. We’re gonna need food, water and naps.”

“Mmmm good idea. Ring the bell, will ya sweetheart? I don’t think my legs work yet.”

Hector chuckled and gave you a long, slow kiss, savoring your mingled flavors. “Darlin, if we could bottle you up and make more of you the world could end tomorrow. I might just have to take you home with me.”

You giggled at the thought of playing house with an outlaw robot.

He smiled back. “What’s funny?”

“Just wondering where we’d live, is all.”

“As long as it has a bed, right?” he said, then kissed you.

“An excellent point, sir,” you agreed.

He got out of bed and you admired his ass as he went to the bathroom, and then you heard him use the toilet. Interesting. You wondered how his plumbing worked. He washed his hands afterwards and then came back into the room and looked around for his pants. He found them in the floor and bent over to pick them up and put them on.

“Awww, do you have to?” you whined.

He came over to the side of the bed and leaned over you. “Don’t worry, darlin, just getting decent to get us some food,” he assured you, kissing you quickly. “I don’t want to be interrupted by room service.”

* * *

Logan hadn’t been this captivated by a host since his first visit to Westworld the previous year. You were truly their finest work. He wondered if you were new? He hadn’t seen you before. He liked the idea of being your first.

He went down and ordered enough food for six people. He didn’t want to have to leave you again.

* * *

You took the opportunity to clean up while he was gone. You had never felt so free to touch and explore a man before. Maybe there was a reason people came here for the sex if all of the hosts were as talented as Hector. You might just spend an extra day in bed with him before you lured him to the sheriff for the bounty.

You were back on the bed waiting for him by the time he returned. “Ah you hungry there, cowboy?”

Logan snickered. “I just wanted to make sure we had enough food and drinks to tide us over for all the energy I plan to use on you.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “I like the sound of that.”

“Then come and eat,” he said with a wink.

You got off the bed and sauntered over to him, dropping to your knees in front of him and unzipping his trousers. “Don’t mind if I do.”

* * *

You were both insatiable. You did things to him that you had only ever fantasized about, and allowed him to do things that you had never imagined. You spent an entirely hedonistic three days in bed with him, completely understanding how people fell down the Westworld rabbit hole.

You hadn’t had a single conversation beyond, “yes,” and, “there.” Yet, you had somehow developed warm feelings for the host. His eyes seemed to hold all of the mysteries of the world in them, and he looked at you like the sun rose and set on you.

The time finally came when you had to go back to reality, though. You had decided not to turn him in for the bounty. Ridiculous as it was, you couldn’t even contemplate hurting him like that. You knew that spark of affection in his eyes was more or less as capable of caring for you as an app on your phone, but you simply could not bring yourself to be mean.

You lie in bed next to him, watching him sleep. He looked so peaceful. You wondered whether hosts dreamed, then realized that you would dream of this host. Not only that, he would make your already 'ridiculously high standards’ of what you wanted in a man to settle down with even more ridiculously high.

You saw his eyes begin to move behind his lids and his lashes flutter. He immediately smiled at you when he saw you watching him, then leaned up to kiss you.

“Good morning,” he said in his husky just-woke-up voice.

“Hey, handsome,” you whispered back, then kissed him again.

“What’s wrong, darlin?” he asked, sensing your sadness.

“Gotta go back to life now,” you answered with a sad smile.

“What if I decide to keep you?” he asked with a wry grin, knowing it couldn’t be and that he was breaking the cardinal rule of Westworld.

You grinned. “Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind, cowboy.”

“I’m considering kidnapping you,” he said, stroking your back.

You laughed. “That would be going full circle.”

He smiled at your laughter but looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” you said, not meeting his eyes now, “I originally planned to turn you in for the bounty.”

“What?” he asked in genuine surprise.

“Yeah, I was going to tie you up and turn you into the sheriff,” you said, ashamed.

“Who do you think I am?” he asked, amused.

“You’re Hector Escaton, aren’t you?” you asked, beginning to realize that you may have made a pretty big mistake.

Logan’s eyes flew wide. “You think I’m a host?”

“You’re not?” you gasped.

“Wait…that means you’re not, either!” he exclaimed.

You jumped away from him. “You’re…human?” you said, embarrassment flooding you as you looked at his body. “But you’re perfect!”

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, understanding some of the things you had said over the last few days.

You grabbed your clothes and threw them on, leaving the room without a backward glance.

“Y/N!” you heard him call, but you kept going.

You saw the sherriff on the boardwalk in front of the hotel and said, “Hector Escaton is in room 6,” then got your horse and left town.

* * *

You went straight back to Sweetwater and packed your things. You were supposed to stay for two more days but you wanted nothing more to do with this place.

You caught the next train out of town and got changed to return to the real world. Your adventure was behind you and you wished that it had never happened. You understood now why he had always seemed to have a spark of life that no other host you had seen possessed. It was because he was human.

You felt incredibly stupid. Your only consolation was that he had apparently made the same mistake as you had.

* * *

Logan was scrambling to get his boots on when the door burst open and about six armed men busted into the room, their leader yelling, “You’re under arrest, Escaton!”

“What?” he yelled. “You got the wrong guy!”

Logan struggled as the men ganged up on him and took him to jail. Westworld had procedures in place for guests who wound up on the wrong side of the law. He would have to wait for ‘prisoner transport’ and spend a night in jail before the 'realized’ they had the wrong guy and released him.

And by then, you’d be long gone.

* * *

It had been about two months since you had left Westworld like your ass was on fire, but you couldn’t get that man out of your head.

Logan. You had never asked for a last name because you had assumed it was an alias. He had never asked for your last name because he had assumed you were a robot. You had both used each other for sex for three days continuously because you had each thought the other was a host. It was ridiculous.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

He plagued your thoughts. You dreamed about him. You fantasized about him. Hell, you masturbated to memories of him. You had never had sex that good before and you doubted any other man would ever make you feel that way again.

Logan.

You sighed aloud. You were out to lunch with your sister and she was giving you looks.

“What?” you snapped irritably.

“You’re down but you won’t tell me. I’m worried,” she said quietly.

You felt guilty. “Sorry. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Seems like you’ve had a lot on your mind since that business trip you took a couple months ago,” she said shrewdly.

You looked up, then sighed again. “I didn’t go on a business trip. I went back to Westworld.”

“Without Danny?” she asked in surprise.

“I’m a grown-up,” you said petulantly, making your sister smirk.

“Right,” she agreed sarcastically. “So what happened?”

“I’m fine. It was just a weird trip, and I’ve been fighting this stupid bug and I’m tired and bloated and cranky.”

“Ahh…what happened in Westworld?” she asked with a different tone.

“I met this host, but…he wasn’t.”

“And by 'met,’ you mean…?”

“Spent three amazing days in bed with him,” you whispered dreamily.

“And you thought he was a host?”

“Right,” you agreed, looking at her like she was a bit dim.

“So…three amazing days of unprotected sex with a human male?”

“Yeah, I guess. I suppose I should get tested, huh?”

“Ah, yeah. Like pee on a stick tested!”

You gasped. “Nooooo!”

“Uh you’re describing how I felt with all three pregnancies, dumbass,” she hissed at you.

* * *

You went to the pharmacy and then back to your condo. Your sister went along for moral support, but you already knew you were pregnant. Now that you thought about it, it all made perfect sense. You had tons of unprotected sex. You hadn’t had a period. You were barfy in the morning and had been napping almost every afternoon. Peeing on the stick was a formality.

You weren’t surprised in the least when you got the positive test. You laughed a little, in fact.

“Glad you’re taking this so we’ll,” Y/S/N said.

“I’m not, but if I had to get knocked up by a man I couldn’t be with, at least he was the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.”

“Ah, my sister, The Queen of Silver Linings.” She shrugged. “Guess it beats having an ugly fatherless baby.”

Deciding to stick to being mature, you stuck out your tongue at her.

* * *

It had been five months since your trip to Westworld. After an initial poor reaction, your family had been remarkably supportive of the pregnancy. Your sister had given your parents a stern lecture when they had been disappointed and angry at first and they had gotten on board. You didn’t need to hear about what a mistake you had made. You’d figured that out all on your own.

You were definitely showing; none of your regular clothes were fitting. Your sister had loaned you her maternity clothes so you hadn’t had to go buy a ton. You were looking forward to shopping for the baby but clothes shopping for yourself wasn’t a favorite pastime, even when you weren’t looking like you swallowed a basketball.

You had been forced to shop for a cocktail dress, though. Your cousin Danny was getting married and his engagement party was this weekend. As much as you hated shopping, you loved your cousin and wanted to help him celebrate his upcoming wedding. Luckily Princess Kate had blazed the trail for elegant maternity wear and you found some lovely Seraphine and Jenny Packham dresses for upcoming occasions. It was truly no chore to buy those goregous dresses no matter the watermelon you’re covering with them.

You were feeling as attractive as possible in a wine colored off the shoulder, knee-length dress with a floaty skirt that showed off your cleavage. Paired with some nude heels you felt pretty and prepared to answer or ignore questions about the baby as the situation called.

You saw your cousin talking to a tall, dark-haired man. From the back he could be Logan. But then your heart tended to flutter whenever you saw a tall dark-haired man.

“Danny, congratulations,” you said when he waved you over and pulled you into a hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks for coming, cuz. Let me introduce you to a friend of mine,” he said, turning you to face Tall Dark. “Logan Delos, this is my cousin Y/N Y/L/N. Logan and I went to Westworld together the first time.”

You felt the blood leave your brain as Logan smiled briefly before recognition lit his beautiful eyes, and then he looked down and saw your pregnant belly and he looked back up at your face, eyes narrowed in accusation.

You felt your glass and clutch purse drop from your fingers and then you turned and walked briskly away, looking for your sister or parents or anyone to rescue you from this colossal clusterfuck.

“Y/N,” you heard Logan growl from behind you as you felt him gently grab your elbow.

“What’s going on?” Danny asked, a bit of hostility in his voice.

You stopped and turned to face him, accepting your purse from Danny. “Thank you,” you whispered, meeting neither of their eyes.

“Come on,” Danny said with a smile, aware that eyes were following their moves curiously.

He led you to your uncle’s study and closed the door in Logan’s face. “Hey!” Logan exclaimed, knocking immediately.

“Let him in, Danny,” you whispered.

He opened the door and Logan came in and over to look at you. “How pregnant are you?” he asked immediately.

“You’re the father, Logan,” you said, not wanting to play calendar bingo. “But I didn’t mean for it to happen, I promise.”

“Would one of you like to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Danny asked angrily.

“I went to Westworld without you. I thought he was Hector and was going to turn him in for the bounty. I didn’t even consider birth control because I thought he was a host. I ran off when he told me he was human. I had no idea who he was.”

“Shit, Y/N,” Danny groaned.

“Dan, could you give us a minute?” Logan asked him quietly.

You nodded when your cousin looked to you for permission.

When the door closed, Logan looked you over for a moment, and truthfully, you drank in the sight of him. Your memory had been faithful; he truly was the most handsome man you had ever seen.

“I looked for you,” he whispered.

Your surprise showed on your face. “Why?”

Logan shook his head. “I thought you were a host.”

You nodded. “I thought you were one. I couldn’t understand why you were so different and so much more attractive than other hosts.”

“I thought it was so weird when you said it was like someone reached into your imagination and found your ideal man.”

“And you said if they could bottle me up the world would end,” you laughed, looking down.

“I looked for you when I realized you were human because that’s the most attracted I’ve been to a woman in years. Maybe ever,” he said, reaching forward to run his fingers down your arm. “Why did you run?”

“I was embarrassed. I’ve never acted like that before. Then I found myself having feelings for a robot, and then I found out you weren’t…I was so confused.”

“Feelings?” he asked, hope flaring inside his heart for the first time in months.

“Oh,” you whispered, realizing what you had said.

“I did, too. That’s why I looked for you,” he said, gently taking your hand. “They said you made your reservations with a wire transfer under a fake name.”

“Wow. Good thing I did if they’ll give information to any old psycho,” you said with a wink.

“Well, I’m not just any old psycho, I own part of the park. Well,” he mumbled, looking down, “I did.”

“So,” you said after a moment. “Delos, huh?”

He smiled. “Unfortunately.”

“Logan, do you want anything to do with the baby?” you asked abruptly. “I mean, I know this has to be a huge shock and you must be reeling.”

“I just…I sure as hell wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t come to my college buddy’s engagement party thinking, 'Boy, I hope my baby mama is there,’” he said, not meeting your eyes.

“Right. Of course, I understand. We barely know each other. I mean,” you shrugged, voice getting choked up, “I wasn’t thinking, 'Boy, I hope my baby daddy will be there.’ Except I was, because I see you everywhere I go.”

Logan looked up at the catch in your voice. “Hey, are you crying?”

“No! The baby is, because he is a very emotional child,” you said, wiping tears away.

“Hey,” Logan said, “I said I was surprised, not that I wasn’t happy to see you. I’ve just…I went a little crazy when I couldn’t find you. And this is…huge. I’ve never really thought about having a kid, not really.”

“I understand,” you said with a watery smile. “Look, I’m gonna go home. If you want to get in touch, I’ll tell Danny to give you my number.”

He gently squeezed your hand. “Please stay. This is just… it’s a lot. But I looked for you for too long to just watch you walk out of my life again.”

“I can’t believe you looked.”

Logan gently cradled your face in his hands and kissed you. “I looked,” he whispered against your lips. “And honestly, I am terrified at the prospect of being a father.”

“I’m pretty scared, too,” you confessed in a whisper. “And I’ve had months to get used to the idea. I really do understand if you need time.”

“I’m just such a fuckup, Y/N. I don’t know if I can be a father.”

“Look, I get it. This was a complete accident and if you don’t want to be a part of our lives, you don’t  have to be. You can be as involved as you want when he’s a baby, but I would just want consistency when he gets older. But I’m not asking for money or anything, I can take care of him.”

Logan looked at you for a few moments, really looked. “I don’t know if I can be a decent father, but if it means a chance with you, then I’m ready to try.”

“Logan, you don’t have to make any decisions right now. I mean… let’s get to know each other. I know we’re doing it all backwards. And that’s on me!” you said quickly. “I just don’t want you to think that you have to do anything.”

“Darlin, I went back to Westworld, I hired a PI, I thought about you constantly. Then when I ran out of options, I drank and got high and screwed anything with a heartbeat.”

“Ick.”

Logan snorted a laugh. “Yeah, your behavior in Westworld might have been out of the ordinary, but mine was pretty typical. Up until I fell for you,” he said drily. “That was new.”

You laughed and threw your arms around him in a hug, and he was charmed all over again. He pulled you close, carefully not squeezing the baby. “Did you say 'he?’”

“I did. I guess I need to pick out a new name for little Logan.”

“You were gonna name him after me?” he whispered, touched.

“Yeah. But maybe we should name him after the one who brought us together?” you said contemplatively.

“What’s that?”

“Hector?” you said with a grin.

“Absolutely not!” he laughed back.

“We have time. You should have a say in it,” you said, shyly looking down.

“We have all the time in the world,” he said.

“Four months, actually,” you corrected him.

“Then we better make every second count,” he said with a smile, then pulled you close and kissed you, trying to pour all the months of longing into the embrace.

It was a beginning, a chance. Neither of you knew where it would lead, but for now you had found each other again, and that was a good start.


	23. Never Say Never

“I can’t do this anymore!” you sobbed. “Sean is just a friend, and if you can’t accept that, it’s more of a reflection of your morals than mine. But I can’t be with someone who constantly accuses me of cheating and obviously doesn’t trust me.”

Logan said nothing, just stood in front of your crumpled figure on the sofa. He was grinding his teeth so hard that the muscles in his jaw and neck were flexing. His hands were fisted at his sides, his suit jacket straining across his shoulders. His entire body was rigid with anger, but also fear. You were the only woman he had ever truly loved and you were slipping away from him. So Logan did what he had been trained to do: shut down. He put on a mask of indifference and relaxed his stance.

You stood up, body racked with great, weeping tremors. “D-do you even care?”

Logan could have been carved from stone now. His demeanor was cold and his face was emotionless. “You’ve made up your mind,” he returned in a voice so flat as to be completely devoid of feeling. “You’re leaving me, so what’s the point of more talking?”

You were hyperventilating at this point. “Christ, Logan, you act like I mean nothing to you,” you whispered brokenly, “I thought we were forever.”

“Nothing is forever, Y/N,” he said smoothly, adjusting his cuffs. “I’ll send someone over to pick up my things.”

And with that, he turned and walked out of your apartment without a backward glance. The latch clicked shut quietly, not even a slammed door to betray any upset he might have felt.

You collapsed in a heap where you stood, crying for what you had obviously valued more than Logan had.

Never again would you allow yourself to love so deeply.

* * *

Logan had been as good as his word. You packed up his clothes and toiletries, random headphones and phone chargers, pictures and gifts he had given you. You were in a state of numb dissociation, absolutely aware of what you were doing but feeling nothing.

Your family and friends were in shock. Even your father took Logan’s part; you should just stop seeing Sean if it upset Logan. You tried to explain that it wasn’t about Sean – you’d take Logan over Sean any day of the week and twice on Sunday. No, it wasn’t about the girl who wanted to have her cake and eat it too; it was about trust. If he trusted you, there would never be an issue if you went out to dinner with a friend.

Ironically, you and Sean were essentially through as friends at that point. Rationally you knew that the split wasn’t Sean’s fault. Without trust, no relationship can last. Still, you looked at him and remembered the reason you lost the love of your life. He had never been a temptation but he was certainly a reminder.

* * *

You were having brunch with your parents and you were so not looking forward to it. Your mother had been supportive but your father would not drop the Logan issue.

You drove up to your childhood home, parking in front in the circle drive. Your hands were clutching the steering wheel, definitely considering taking the coward’s route and telling them your news by email. Finally, you took a deep breath and left the car, walking up the steps to the large double doors.

You let yourself in and went to the breakfast room at the back of the house. You’d had breakfast here for as long as you could remember, the informal room decorated more comfortably than the formal dining room where your parents entertained friends and business acquaintances.

Your father was at his place at the big round table where the light from the morning sun streamed over his shoulder to illuminate the newspaper he always read until food was served. You went over and kissed his cheek. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, Sassy. How’s my girl?”

You smiled at your Dad’s pet name for you as you leaned over to kiss your Mom next.

“Hi, Mom. And I’m doing alright,” you answered. “I actually have some news.”

He lowered the newspaper quickly, a hopeful look upon his face. “Did you get back together with Logan?”

“No, Dad, I did not. I have no plans to do so, either,” you snapped, brows furrowed in a scowl.

Your Dad folded the newspaper jerkily, slapping it down onto the table. “How long are you planning to stay mad at him?”

You rolled your eyes, guaranteeing an argument. “I dunno, I was thinking ‘forever’ seemed like a nice round number.”

“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N! Men get jealous! It happens.”

“Don’t start this again, you two!” your mother tried to defuse the situation before your notoriously short fuses had a chance to catch.

You shook your head angrily and said, “I don’t want to have this fight again, Dad. But since I’m moving to Melbourne, I guess we’ll have to argue on video chat for the foreseeable future.”

“What?” he thundered.

“Excuse me?” your Mom echoed your father’s disbelief, her role as peacekeeper tossed aside in that moment.

“I took a job in Australia, I’m moving next month,” you said more quietly. “We’re opening an office in Melbourne to deal with the markets there and my boss recommended me to open it. It’s a huge promotion.”

“I don’t care if it’s a goddamn coronation, you’re not running away to the other side of the world!” your father shouted, telltale vein sticking out on his forehead.

“I’m not running away,” you replied quietly, trying to maintain your cool in the face of his fury. “It’s a wonderful opportunity, I have friends there and I’ve visited enough to know that I like it there.”

“You have to see how it looks, Y/N,” your mother scolded. “Have you spoken to Logan?”

“No, and I don’t expect to. He didn’t care at all, Mom. I guess once he realized I wouldn’t be his possession he lost interest.”

“That’s utter nonsense, Y/N! Logan Delos loves you and you belong with him,” your father thundered.

“Well, he couldn’t seem to distinguish the difference between belonging with someone from belonging to them. And I am no one’s property.”

* * *

Your parents were clearly and loudly not on board with your plan, but ultimately it was your life and your decision. You had gone ahead with the move, found a place to live, opened the new office in Melbourne, handled staffing and a million other details.

And you loved it in Melbourne. You loved being in charge of the office and you were enjoying reconnecting with college friends that had landed there. All in all, your life was going brilliantly.

And you were miserable. Even with the chaos of moving around the world, you eventually found yourself running out of things to distract yourself from Logan. Christ, you missed him.

You weren’t over him and you were absolutely not above cyber-stalking him. And, there was plenty to see; Logan went back to his pre-relationship manwhore ways. Every time you looked he had a different person on his arm and you knew him well enough to know that 'on his arm’ led directly to 'in his bed.’ He appeared to be trying to break some sort of record for tapping ass.

You were not even in the running for that record. You had been out on two whole dates in the seven months you had lived in Australia, and both of those were set-ups. One had attempted to kiss you on the cheek and you had bent so far back to avoid him that you had almost fallen on your ass. Needless to say, he had not asked for a second date.

You told your friends you would let them know if and when you were interested in dating again and threw yourself into work, happier on your own than with a man who wasn’t Logan. And, honestly, you thought you should stay alone until that was no longer the case, rather than subject yourself and a date to more awkward dinners.

* * *

You had been in Australia for six years and had only been back to the States a handful of times. Your parents visited you there and you declined invitations that might bring you into contact with Logan, citing an inability to get time off from your job. You thought you were over him, but why take chances?

To be honest, your people could run the office if you never came back. You had done too good of a job hiring and training your subordinates; you had rendered yourself unnecessary.

So when your Mother called to say that your Dad was sick – really sick – you knew it was time to stop running. You told your bosses that you were taking a leave of absence, suggested they promote your right-hand employee Lu. You packed up your apartment, sold your furniture and listed your townhouse for sale.

It was time to go home and face the music.

* * *

Logan had heard that you were back in the US from at least seven people. He had thought that he was over you, but if the way his stomach flipped and clenched and his heart rate went all out of control, he thought maybe there were some unresolved feelings buried.

He wanted you back. No: he needed you back.

He just needed to figure out how to accomplish it. He was pretty sure there would be grovelling.

* * *

Your parents were throwing a Christmas Party a few weeks before the holiday, and it was important to them that you be there. Your Dad had actually played the 'It Might Be My Last Christmas’ card. And of course the entire Delos clan was invited. As your Mother had said, “Our families were friends long before you decided to rip Logan’s heart out and tap dance on it, Y/N.”

You wondered whether Logan’s arm candy would be able to write his or her name.

* * *

The night of the party, you were careful to look your best. It was definitely going to be difficult to see him and you wanted him to know with one look that you were doing fine without him.

You weren’t bringing a date. You had considered it but knew that you would just be using anyone you asked as a shield – or perhaps a weapon. You assumed Logan would have one, but you doubted that he would be weilding his date in any way but as a bed partner after the party. He would have to care to bring a shield, and if that day six years ago had taught you anything, it was that you had greatly overestimated the depths of Logan’s feelings for you.

One feeling you were pretty sure you could yet instill in him, though, was lust. So you picked a dress that you knew he would like. Surprisingly, Logan liked your dresses to skim your curves, not hug them; to reveal your legs, not display them; to tease flashes of skin, not flaunt it. He always likened your clothes to wrapping paper, and he liked knowing that he was the only one who got to see the gift.

The wine colored gown had one shoulder and was layers of floaty silk with a slit in the back. You had actually practiced a pivot turn to display your legs to him; Logan had always loved your legs. You spun in front of the full-length mirror in your childhood bedroom, doing one last check on your dress, hair and makeup.

It was time to make your entrance. You heard the guests arriving downstairs and knew your parents would be impatient. You also knew that Logan had arrived; your friend had texted you that he was there and keeping an eye on the staircase.

You were glad of the ostentatious stairway for more than the railing’s excellent sliding qualities. Tonight you were making an entrance. You might have lost the love of your life six years ago, but you would be damned if anyone saw how much that still tore you up inside.

You smiled at a few people on the way down the steps. Your eyes were of course drawn to Logan. He had always looked amazing in a tux and tonight was no exception. He looked good enough to eat and you wanted to kick him in the shin with your pointy-ass Louboutin for it.

When you got to the bottom of the steps you went to greet some old family friends, ignoring Logan for the present. First you had to do your pivot turn so he got to see what he was missing. We’re you being a bit petty? Yes, yes you were being a bit petty.

* * *

Logan’s eyes followed you down the stairs. You had always moved with the grace of a dancer at events like this. He noticed your legs when you turned to hug an acquaintance. Fuck, he loved your legs.

He was one of the few people that got to see how you could get excited and your brain went faster than your feet and you would trip over them. He had steadied you more than a few times when you had been giggling happily and distractedly tripped over something. But whether they were tangled and tripping you up or tangled with his in bed, he fucking loved your legs.

You were walking toward another friend, perfect smile on your perfect face, dress skimming your body and making him want to run his hands over your curves.

Christ, how had he let you get away? For his fucking pride? He had learned a little something about the cost of pride since then. It had been very clearly demonstrated when he was cleaning sand out of the crack of his ass that there were some things in life that were worth fighting for. Westworld was not one of them.

You absolutely were.

Logan decided in that moment that come hell or high water, he was getting you back. And this time he wouldn’t fuck it up.

* * *

You went to greet Logan’s father. He was between wives at present, it seemed, if the lack of a ring on the finger of the floozy half his age on his arm was any indication. Logan didn’t inherit his looks from his father, but he had definitely gotten his libido from him. The horny apple didn’t fall far from the oversexed tree.

“Hello, Jim,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. “Who have we here?” You had always felt sorry for Jim’s women. They all had short shelf lives unless they were unfortunate enough to marry him.

“This is Shelly,” he said.

“Shelby,” she said quietly, shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you,” you said, knowing you wouldn’t be seeing her again.

“Have ye seen Logan yet?” he asked directly.

“Yes, he’s tall. Couldn’t miss him,” you snarked, grabbing a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter.

“Have ye spoken to him, ye cheeky bint?” he said with annoyed affection.

“No, I haven’t. I don’t think he’s all that anxious to chat with me, Jim,” you said with a self-deprecating smile.

“Think again,” you heard a low voice murmur from behind you.

You stiffened for a moment before turning, plastering a smile to your face as you spun. “Hello, Logan.”

Fuck, he looked good. And smelled good. How had you forgotten how good he smelled? Like the outdoors and sunshine and Logan.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said simply, eyes drinking in the sight of you. “It’s really good to see you.”

“You, too,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime?” he suggested.

You didn’t want to have this conversation anywhere near his father. You linked your arm through his and led him away, smiled and said, “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Ah, that’s code for, 'No, but I won’t humiliate you in front of your father,’ right?”

“No, it’s English for 'Do you really think that’s a good idea?’ We crashed and burned pretty spectacularly, loverboy. I think it’s best if we just play nice in public.”

Logan’s voice dropped even lower, his words a caress. “What should we play in private?”

You suppressed a shiver. “Nothing, because there is no private. Have fun, Logan,” you said politely as you spun on your heel to walk away, deliberately flashing your legs again.

Logan smirked and took a sip of his drink, admiring your legs and ass as he was certain he was intended to do.

He was going to get you back.

* * *

You kept a smile on your face all the way to the powder room, where you gave yourself five minutes to fall apart.

Who the hell had you been kidding that you were over him? You had to face facts: you were still in love with Logan Delos.

* * *

You unlocked your door a few days later and kicked off your heels, mail in one hand and shopping bags and handbag weighing down your shoulder. You gently slipped your purse off your shoulder to the floor, then dropped your shopping bags on the table and hung up your coat.

You had been off-kilter since you had seen Logan. Six years should have been enough time to get over him, but maybe that was hoping for too much. You knew that you would eventually have to socialize with him when you had moved back. You were from the same world; you had just been in hiding. You just hadn’t expected it to hurt so much.

You had thought time had healed that wound, but apparently it had just knit the surface, leaving a roiling mass of pain and emotions underneath to fester. You had spent so long convincing yourself that you were over him but it only took a single glance to show you what a load of bullshit that was. You were not over Logan.

You grabbed a soda from the fridge and went to plop down on your sofa. There were still unpacked boxes around, a sign of your reluctance to settle in. If your father’s health hadn’t been so fragile you wouldn’t have moved back at all. You hadn’t gone out much in Melbourne, but at least when you had, you hadn’t needed to look over your shoulder for the one that got away. Now when you went anywhere you were constantly on alert for Logan.

You looked through your mail. Bill, donation request, Christmas card, bill – letter? Who sends letters in this day and age? you thought to yourself as you tore open the envelope.

Dear Y/N,

I know that it’s been years, but you did make me promise to let you know first, remember?

I am retiring from the rental business and I’m selling the cabin that you loved so much. Are you still interested?

Hope you are well,

Marjorie Landis

The cabin. You and Logan had gone there for a romantic weekend when you had first gotten together. He had told you to pack a casual bag and you were going away and then surprised you with a long weekend there. It was the most breathtakingly beautiful place you had ever seen and you had tried to buy the place that weekend. When the lovely old couple that owned it declined, you had begged them to let you know first if they ever changed their minds.

This was some shit timing. You were already feeling turmoil from seeing him, could you stand to be in the cozy little cabin that was your favorite place to go together? Could you buy it and go there without Logan?

A few minutes later you realized that you had drifted off into memories: Logan smiling across the dinner table, candles reflecting in his dark eyes; Logan first thing in the morning, sleepy voice saying good morning; Logan teasing you, tickling you, dancing in the kitchen with you while you made dinner together.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” you muttered aloud, disgusted with yourself.

Six years!! Logan was in the past, you were just off-kilter from seeing him after so long.

You picked up the letter for Marjorie’s phone number, dialing it before you lost your nerve.

“Hello, Mrs. Landis? This is Y/N. I am definitely interested in buying the cabin.”

“Oh, Y/N, I am so happy to hear that, dear!” she said happily. “I wanted someone who loved it as much as we did to buy it.”

“Well, that would be me. It’s one of my favorite places in the world,” you said honestly.

“Of course you’ll want to check things out before we go forward with the sale. When can you come up for a visit?”

“Umm how about next Thursday? I should be able to get away for a long weekend.”

“Wonderful! I’ll pick you up from the restaurant, let me know when you’re getting in. See you there next week.”

* * *

Of course you had no way of knowing, but Mrs. Landis made another call as soon as you disconnected.

“Logan? She’s coming up next Thursday.”

* * *

Logan was more nervous than he had ever been in his life. The last six years had been a study in self-destructive behavior on his part; he knew he had fucked up with you and he was punishing himself. His jealousy had ruined something wonderful and he needed to fix things.

He had planned to try and reconcile at the time. He had been a wreck when he got his things back and was giving you time to cool off. He’d had no idea that you would go to the other side of the world to avoid him. That had stung, but he had figured that if you were willing to go that far to avoid him, maybe you had realized that breaking up wasn’t the mistake – being with him in the first place had been the issue.

And then he had seen you at that Christmas party. Fuck, you were beautiful, but it had been a punch in the gut to see you again. His only consolation had been that you looked every bit as wrecked as he did.

You weren’t over him, either.

He had already purchased the cabin from Mrs. Landis. Now he needed to convince you to get back together with him, because his life was absolute shit without you.

* * *

“Hello, dear!” Mrs. Landis greeted you. The shuttle service from the tiny airport brought you to the little restaurant in town and Mrs. Landis met you and drove you to the cabin. The first time Logan and you had been there you were both a bit skeptical, worried that the cabin was going to be a hole-in-the-wall and you would be trapped.

Mrs. Landis pulled you into a hug. “It’s so good to see you, Y/N!”

“You, too, Mrs. L. How have you been?”

The two of you chatted while you ran to the market to grab necessities for the stay. She kept basics in the kitchen, but anything particular you needed to bring along. Since this was going to be a short visit, you didn’t need much.

You were driving to the cottage, taking in the sights that had always soothed you in the past. This time, it all reminded you of how you had seen these views with Logan before.

“Do you have a signal?” Mrs. Landis asked.

You pulled your phone out of your bag. “Huh. No, I don’t. We never had trouble with coverage before.”

“I know. Tell you what, I’m going to drop you and run back to town to call someone and see what’s going on. I wouldn’t want you trapped up here all weekend with no car and no mobile service.”

“OK, sure,” you said as you pulled up in front of the cabin. Mrs. Landis popped the trunk so you could grab your suitcase and shopping bags, then waved at you as she drove back down the mountain to town.

You dragged your suitcase and the shopping bags in the door, happy to find it unlocked. Pulling your things in, you stomped the snow from your boots and went to the kitchen, pleased to see that there was a fire blazing in the living room and the table set for two with candles and…roses…

You heard a noise and looked over to the bedroom to see Logan appear, hands in his pockets as he always did when he was nervous. Delos men didn’t fidget, after all.

“Hey, Jellybean,” he said, voice shaking a bit.

You were utterly and completely speechless. You just let go of the bags you were holding, groceries falling around you to the floor.

“Gonna say something?” he said, nervousness giving way to terror.

“What…how…you just…” you sputtered.

“You seem upset,” he attempted to placate you.

“You. Fucking. KIDNAPPED ME!!” you screamed.

“You wouldn’t talk to me!” he defended himself.

“And you thought KIDNAPPING me would change that?” you railed, waving your arms and stomping your feet.

“In retrospect, I think it may have been the wrong approach,” he said weakly.

“Oh, ya think?” you sneered.

“OK, so since I went to all the trouble of buying the cabin, conspiring with a sweet old lady to kidnap you and making you a romantic dinner, could we talk?” he said with his best smile.

You sighed. This was just like Logan, doing whatever he wanted and expecting you to give him his way because you loved him more than life.

You loved him more than life.

“Get me a drink, Delos. I’ll listen to what you have to say,” you said with what you hoped was a fierce frown.

Logan grinned and went to pour you each a glass of wine, then gestured to the sofa.

You went and sat down and he brought you the drink. You thanked him, took a sipped and said, “Well?”

“I love you. I never stopped loving you. I wanted to get back together with you and you moved to Australia so I figured that was a pretty good sign that you didn’t want me back, but you haven’t dated anyone and you looked happy to see me before you remembered you weren’t and fuck, Y/N, give us another chance,” he babbled, words tripping over each other.

You were quiet for a while, staring into the fire and sipping your wine. “What’s to keep you from restricting me from having friends of the opposite gender again?”

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. “It wasn’t that he was the opposite gender. It was what I knew.”

You turned to look at him. “And what did you know, pray tell?” you asked in a cool voice. “And why did it take you six years to decide to tell me?”

“Because I am really not proud of it,” he said quietly, looking down at his hands holding his drink.

“Do go on,” you growled.

Logan looked up and straightened his spine. “I knew he had ulterior motives for being friends with you because in college, we would bet on fucking girls.”

You got a disgusted look on your face. “You are a pig.”

“Yes. I was. But I changed.”

“Oh really?” you said skeptically.

“Yes. I stopped doing it after college, and then you finally let us become more than friends and my whole world…you made me better, and I didn’t want you to know how big a fucker I used to be. How could I tell you what Sean was doing without telling you how I knew?”

You knew Logan well enough to know he was telling the truth. “You didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to find out how you used to treat women?”

“Yes,” he confessed, then gulped the rest of his wine. Getting up to refill his glass he realized that he had signed his own death warrant. “I was stupid enough to think that you would come here and we’d be together where we were happy and you’d throw yourself into my arms and we’d live happily ever after without you ever asking about what happened before. I should have known better.”

“Oh?” you asked. “And why is that?”

Logan huffed a laugh as he plopped back down onto the sofa. “Because I could never fool you. You saw through my bullshit and loved me anyway, and I threw all that away because I’m a fucking dumbass. Is that what you want to hear?”

“I want to hear why you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. I want to hear how things would be different. I want to hear how you could let us lose six years together over something so stupid!”

“Because I was afraid to lose you. Because I didn’t want you to look at me differently,” he whispered, then his eyes flew to yours. “Wait…you want to hear how it would be different?”

“I mean…it seems to me that you need someone to see through your bullshit.”

“Are you – can we try again?” Logan whispered, hope in his eyes.

“You have to promise to tell me everything that’s going on with you. If you can do that –”

“I can!” he interrupted eagerly.

“Then, yes,” you said, reaching out to touch his cheek and smiling at how he turned into your touch. “Let’s try again. I love you, Logan. I think I always have and I know I always will.”

Logan smiled happily and leaned in to kiss you, and oh it was like the sun breaking through the clouds after a six year storm. When you broke apart for air, you hugged each other so hard that your ribs creaked.

You pulled away and said, “So you cooked a romantic meal, huh? My darling learned to cook?”

Logan smiled self-deprecatingly. “I took a class for tonight and I can cook exactly one thing, but it’s practically edible.”

You heart warmed at the thought of him taking a class just for you. You threw your arms around his neck and somehow wound up on his lap, kissing and laughing and catching up.

A timer went off in the kitchen and Logan scooched you off his lap and went to get dinner ready. As you sat across from him and admired his Coq au Vin, you realized that while the time apart had been excruciating, you had both grown up while you were apart.

“I love you, Logan. I don’t think I know how to stop loving you. I tried really hard,” you said with a half-smile.

“I love you, too,” he said softly, candlelight glowing in his eyes. He held up his wine glass. “To starting anew, to being in love and to building a future together.”

“To love,” you agreed, clinking your glass to his. “And to our forever.”

* * *

You were snuggled up together on the sofa after dinner. You were perfectly comfortable together; the six years melted away and it was as if you hadn’t been apart.

You snickered a bit.

“What?” Logan asked.

“My Dad is going to wet himself with joy when I tell him we’re back together.”

“So… it’s official? You want to tell everyone?” he asked hesitantly.

“Babe, I missed you every minute. I thought you didn’t love me, that’s all that kept me away. I was miserable without you. I don’t want to waste another moment with you. So, yeah, take out an ad, buy a billboard. I want the world to know.”

Logan smiled happily and your heart skipped a beat. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

You snuggled a bit closer and kissed him. “Merry Christmas, Logan.”

Logan closed his eyes and thanked his lucky stars. “Best Christmas ever,” he whispered.


	24. A Favor

You scampered past Jeanine’s desk and into Logan’s office without waiting to be announced. She never tried to stop you unless Logan was in a meeting, and even then if it was just his Dad, she didn’t stop you. Those two needed all the buffer they could get and Jim loved you.

“Ah, to what do I owe the honor of your presence, dearest?” Logan asked sarcastically when you entered his office without knocking.

You went around his desk and scooted up on it in front of him. “I’m glad you recognize it as the gift it is,” you answered. “I’m a fucking treasure.”

He leaned back in his chair to consider you. “You are that. Now why are you sitting in front of me like a buffet when I can’t partake?”

“Wanted to ask a favor.”

“And you thought teasing me with your gorgeous body that you keep telling me I can’t sample will make me want to grant one?” he asked drily.

“Ah, but what if I let you pretend to sample it?” you asked in a very snake-oil salesman kind of way.

“I’m not following.”

“There’s this man.”

“Oh, fuck. Heeeere we go,” he said in his ‘Oh, hell no’ voice.

“Listen!” you objected.

“What?” he snapped.

“I really, really like him. He’s amazing and I think he’s someone I could be with,” you entreated him.

“So tell him,” he said coldly.

“I don’t think he’s into me. I think he just kind of sees me as background noise, y'know?”

“Fine. How do I make him see you as the main event?” he snarked.

“You pretend to be my boyfriend!” you announced grandly, throwing your arms up like a game show girl.

“Absolutely not, sweetcheeks.”

“Why?” you demanded.

“Exactly, why?”

“To make him jealous?” you said in a small voice.

“Jesus Christ, are we in middle school?” he sneered.

“If I could make the great and powerful Logan Delos fall for me, well…that would certainly make a man look at me differently, dontcha think?”

“Who is this paragon of stupidity?” he asked in a bored voice.

“Nope, not gonna tell you,” you replied stubbornly.

“Then I’m not gonna help you,” he said back, equally as stubbornly.

“But Logan!”

“No, not this time. You are not going to bat your eyelashes and get me to do whatever stupid thing you want. Especially if you won’t even tell me who it is.”

You batted your eyelashes at him, but said nothing.

“No.”

You amped up the eyes to full puppy dog intensity.

“Nope.”

You pouted your lower lip, letting it tremble a bit.

Logan looked away, disgusted with himself for folding. Whether you knew it or not, he was going to do it. “So you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend, and don’t get me started on how much I  _loathe_ that word for a man my age, so that the man you really want to be with will fall madly in love with you? You do see how utterly ridiculous this is, don’t you?” he reasoned.

“Look, I think he has feelings for me and just needs to see that, y'know, maybe I’m not gonna wait forever for him to find his sack and tell me. It’s more of a nudge than anything,” you coaxed.

“But what about me?” he whined playfully, leaning forward and putting his hands on your hips as if to pull you forward and into his lap. “If you get this guy to find his sack then I’ll run out of time to make my play for you.”

“Gee, maybe this is your chance to win me while I try to get my guy?” you said with a laugh.

“Still gotta say no, sweetheart. Not that I don’t admire your enthusiasm,” he said condescendingly.

“You’d get PDAs!”

“What, holding your hand, kissing your cheek?” he said sarcastically.

“No Ho Ho! I mean full on drag me out of the room before you embarrass our families, everybody thinks we’re fucking in the other room, maybe even get deliberately caught in the odd indecent situation! Politeness won’t catch this guy’s eye.”

“Really?” he said, interest piqued.

“Oh, yeah. Your dad will be somewhere between disgusted at our behavior and happy that you’re finally with someone he likes.” You went in for the kill, then. “Dare I say…your Dad would approve?”

Logan looked at you shrewdly. “What happens when we break up, then?”

“Hmmmm I suppose I’ll be devastated,” you said.

“No, really. If the hook is how my Dad might actually not hate me for however long this goes on, what happens when we break up?” he demanded.

“You dump me?” you tried.

“No, that’d be my fault.”

“I want children and you don’t?”

“My fault.”

“I cheat?”

“My fault for not being what you need.”

“I enter a convent?” you said sarcastically.

“I scarred you for life with my deviant ways.”

“What the fuck, Logan! You think of something!” you exclaimed in frustration.

“Let’s see, you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend, public displays to get me hot but no follow through, presumably no 'cheating,’ so I get to fuck my hand for the duration, then when we break up, whatever credit this gets me with my father who despises me goes away because, once again, Logan fucked everything up. And now you want me to think of the reason we break up, too?”

“Never mind,” you said, plucking his hands from your hips and sliding off his desk to leave, walking toward the door. “I’ll find someone else. I just…I wanted it to be you because I – trust you.”

He watched you take another couple steps and got to his feet, walking over to you. “Wait!” he said, feeling a strange twist of panic.

“For what, Logan? Did you think of some other way to insult me?” you asked politely.

“Fine.”

“Fine, what?”

“I’ll do it.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Why the change of heart?”

He shrugged. “Dad hates me anyway. I may as well help you get your man,” he said quietly, then winked and said. “And maybe I’ll be able to seduce you during the PDAs.”

You rolled your eyes. “I should have known you’d find the silver lining in your pants.” You laughed and hugged him. “Thank you, Logan. You won’t regret it, I’ll owe you big!”

“I already do.” He hugged you back, then leaned back and said, “But, don’t you think we should practice the PDAs? You want it to be convincing, don’t you?”

You made a thinking face. “That’s a really good point. If I flinch or something nobody will believe it. And it is really important that this guy is convinced that I’m with you romantically and not just hanging out or you’re escorting me places as a friend.”

“Well, then,” he purred, “no time like the present.”

“Are you sure this won’t be weird for you?” you whispered. “I can’t lose you as my friend.”

He shook his head. “You can’t get rid of me, babe. I’m like herpes.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you won’t cheat?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I mean, I get no sex? How long is it going to take to make this guy want you?”

“How long can you go without?” you countered.

He thought about it. “I’ll give you a month.”

“Two?”

“Six weeks. Don’t,” he said when you looked like you were going to try again, “don’t push it, sweetheart.”

“You’re right, of course. I really appreciate it, Logan,” you said softly, sliding your hands up his arms to his shoulders. “Should we go for a test run?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking at your lips. “Wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself by passing out in ecstasy in public because you weren’t prepared for the power of Logan.”

“Jesus, shut the fuck up and –”

He kissed you, cutting you off mid-taunt.

He started slow, light, a gentle caress. Then, he increased the pressure and pulled you closer, one hand on your hip and the other cradling the back of your head, moving you so that he could deepen the kiss. When his tongue darted out to tease your lower lip slowly, you moaned aloud.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, one hand in his hair, gently pulling, the sliding the other back down his shoulder and to his chest, pushing his perfectly fitted jacket from his shoulder. You moaned again when you felt Logan’s big hand slide from your hip to your knee and pull it up to his waist, then back up under your skirt.

Logan groaned to find that you were wearing stockings and garters, his cock so hard he could cut glass with it. When you slid your hand down to pull his shirt out of his pants and wrapped your leg around his waist, he moved both of his hands to your ass and squeezed, pulling another delicious moan from you.

Just as you pressed against his cock, his office door opened. “Logan – oh, for fuck’s sake,” his father swore in disgust. “What have I told ye about bringin’ your whores –”

“Hello, Jim!” you turned around and interrupted him.

“Cherub! What – what the hell –” he replied, speechless.

You started to step away from Logan, but he kept you in front of him, his cock pressed to your ass in explanation. “Ah, surprise!”

“Logan, did ye finally come to your senses and see what’s been in front of your face all along then?”

“Oh, I see, Dad,” he said in a husky voice, heart still racing. What the fuck would have happened if his father hadn’t plowed in? “Did you need something?”

Jim watched you look up at Logan and kiss his jaw, smiling at him like he hung the moon. “It can wait.”

“OK, then,” Logan said, dismissing Jim from his attention and looking down at you smiling at him.

“Bye, Jim,” you said without looking at him.

“Bye,” he mumbled, awkwardly turning and leaving.

You pulled away immediately. “Sorry, Logan, I got a little carried away.”

Logan laughed humorlessly. “If my dad hadn’t shown up, you were about to be carried away to the sofa and fucked,” he replied. “Still an option if you want.”

You looked him over like he was a tasty treat. “Can’t say I’m not tempted, Delos. I doubt the serpent was as persuasive to Eve.”

He sauntered over to stand in front of you. “Have a bite, sweetheart. I’m not forbidden,” he growled.

You closed your eyes and shivered. “Mmmm I better go,” you said, opening your eyes to look at Logan. “We have a party tonight. Black tie.”

“Seriously. You’re just gonna leave me like this? Who is this guy?” he said incredulously.

You smiled brightly. “He’s amazing, Logan,” you said dreamily. “I’ll text you the address. Thanks!” you called over your shoulder as you left his office.

Logan watched your ass as you left, utterly stunned that you had just walked out after a kiss like that. He was still hard as a rock. He’d have to go into his private bathroom and jerk off or he’d go crazy.

Fuck! How was he going to survive a month and a half of this?

* * *

You stepped out of Logan’s office and winked at Jeanine, then stepped into a nearby bathroom to fix your make-up.

That had gone better than you’d hoped, and Jim could not have arrived at a better time. You were damn close to wrecking your plan and having sex with Logan right there in his office! That would have completely ruined everything.

You were going to have one helluva rough time resisting him for a month and a half. This was it, though. If the adorable idiot didn’t fall for you during the next six weeks, you were giving up on him.

Sex wasn’t good enough. You wanted him to fall as madly in love with you as you were with him. You were resorting to this ridiculous plan to make him jealous of himself simply because you didn’t think he would ever look at you as anything more than a friend otherwise. A friend that he liked to flirt with and tease outrageously, true, but still just a friend. It had become the natural state of your friendship, but you wanted more.

You looked in the mirror and nodded to yourself. You were going to get that man to love you, no matter how underhanded you had to be.

* * *

You had chosen a red gown by Stella that you adored. It was modest in front and had an open back, skimming your curves beautifully and then flowing around your ankles beautifully. Logan might like his tarts in revealing clothes, but you weren’t looking to be another notch – you were going to be his forever notch.  

You had a bright red lippy that matched the gown, strappy sandals and your hair was styled in a simple but dramatic way so that his hands wouldn’t miss the skin of your back. Logan was a tactile person; you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist a backless gown.

You’d have to resist him, though. That was going to be the real trick.

* * *

You’d been at the charity event for an hour or so. You were on the board for this charity and had helped plan this event, so you had arrived early to make sure everything was ready to go. You were anxiously awaiting Logan’s arrival. This was going to be the test for your plan, to see if he acted remotely jealous of your mystery man.

You were talking to some very generous donors when you felt arms slip around your waist from behind and a kiss dropped to your shoulder. You looked up in surprise but then smiled happily and reached a hand up to caress his beard, guiding him down for a kiss.

“Mike, Wendy, you know my friend Logan, don’t you?” you asked, dragging your eyes away from his heated gaze. Lord, his eyes were like a drug.

“Of course,” Mike said in surprise, Wendy humming her agreement.

Logan moved around next to you so that his left arm was around your waist and his right was free to shake hands. “Good to see you both.”

“Are you two…together?” Wendy asked, obviously a bit in shock. Logan rarely attended events like this one and never, ever as a respected board member’s escort.

“Yes,” you said softly, looking up at him adoringly. “He finally admitted he’s crazy about me and I always have been mad about him.”

Logan looked down at you in amazement. The smile when he arrived, your words now – they all seemed so goddamn genuine. “Yeah,” he agreed. “This one was foolish enough to fall for me. I’d have to be an idiot not to hold on to her.”

You giggled and pecked his lips. “But you’re my idiot.”

Mike and Wendy excused themselves, uncomfortable with the nauseating new love.

“How’d I do?” Logan asked when you were alone.

“If I didn’t know better I’d think you loved me,” you said with a smile.

He just looked at you for a moment. “Is  _he_  here?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Where?” he asked, eyes darting around the room.

“Ah ah ah,” you scolded. “I told you that was Need To Know, and you don’t.”

“C'mon, babe, I need to know he’s good enough for you,” he said, pulling you into his arms.

You linked your arms around his waist. “I think I’ll be the judge of that,” you said, tipping your head back to look up at him and grinning.

He couldn’t resist. He dropped a kiss on your lips, then kissed you again for good measure.

“You’re really putting your heart into this, Logan,” you whispered up at him.

He leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “Just let me know if you want me to put anything else into…it.”

You gave him a tap on his bum and said, “Naughty boy.”

“I promise, I am that and so much more,” he whispered into your ear, then bit your earlobe.

You shivered at the combination of the sting of his teeth and the warmth of his breath. “Mr. Delos, one would think you were trying to seduce me.”

“If I did, would it work?” he asked with wiggling eyebrows.

“What is this?” a voice that caused Logan to freeze.

You framed his face and kissed him, whispering, “Look at me, Logan. Just look at me, baby.”

He kissed you hard and smiled at you.

“I’m with you, babe, right here with you.”

He nodded, wrapping his arm around you and turning to face his sister and her loathsome husband William.

“Are you two together?” Juliet asked excitedly, kissing Logan on the cheek and then hugging you.

“He finally asked me out and we’re just so happy!” you answered, rubbing his back.

“Really?” William said skeptically. “Are your parents as thrilled?”

“Jim seemed happy, and I’m sure his mom will be OK with me. Why wouldn’t they? I’m a good person,” you said defensively, then turned to Logan with your puppy dog eyes. “Do you think I’m a good person, baby? Will your Mom approve?”

He pulled you close, kissing your cheek and whispering, “Thank you.”

“I think you’re the best person.” Then he turned you around and said, “Mom already loves you, sweetheart, I’m sure she’ll love us together.”

You snuggled up next to him and said, “Oh, baby, there’s Lacey Portman. Come with me to say hi?”

“Of course,” he murmured.

“Jules, let’s have lunch soon?” you said as you kissed her cheek and sailed away, pulling Logan along behind you.

“Y'know, I may just keep you,” he leaned close and said quietly. “Screw whoever that other guy is, you’re my fuckin’ hero.”

“William’s a piece of shit,” you said with a bright smile, waving to people as you crossed the room to your friend. “I hope he dies soon.”

“Wow. What did he do to you?” Logan asked in amazement.

You wrinkled your brows and looked at him like he was an idiot before looking ahead to see where you were going. “Logan, he hurt you. That was all it took. I hate him.”

If you had looked over at Logan right then, you would have seen one of the most confused expressions ever to grace his perfect face.

“Hello, Lacey,” you said brightly, giving her the kiss-kiss that you did at these soirees to save make-up.

“This event is gorgeous, you did a great job,” she said sincerely, then leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “Did you see Ty Keller is here?”

“Who’s Ty Keller?” Logan whispered.

“I’m so sorry,” you said sincerely. “Lacey, do you know Logan?”

“No, but I definitely want to,” she purred.

You stiffened and said, “I should have introduced him as my  _boyfriend_  Logan.”

“Oh,” she said, pretending to be embarrassed. “How nice to meet you.”

“Charmed,” he said. “Honey, do you want to dance?”

“Love to,” you said, then smiled a goodbye to Lacey.

He led you to the dance floor and you were both quiet, but you broke first. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t reply for a moment then said, “Is this Keller guy _him_?”

“Him? Oh! No,” you said with a laugh.

“Then why did she point him out?”

“Because he asks me out every time I see him.”

“And?”

“And I say no.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not interested in him.”

“Ah. Just  _him_?”

“You say 'him’ like I want to have Charles Manson’s baby,” you joked smiling at someone you danced near.

“You’re that serious about him?” he asked in amazement.

You looked into his eyes. “Maybe. If things worked out, yeah.”

He scoffed.

“What was that?” you asked, irritated at his attitude.

“Just, you might want to go out on a date with him before you start picking out baby names,” he said sarcastically.

You narrowed your eyes while smiling brightly, then said, “If I didn’t think William would enjoy it so much, I’d stomp your foot and walk away from you right now.”

He grinned back at you. “You sure you’re not worried that Lacey would swoop in and take me off your hands? That would ruin your plan to make your mystery man jealous, wouldn’t it?”

Your smile ran away from your face. “Yeah, it would,” you said softly. “But if that’s what you want, go ahead.”

He paused when he sensed that you weren’t verbally jousting with him anymore. “No. I’m sorry. That’s not what I want.”

You smiled again, though the brightness had left your eyes. “Cool. Let’s go make the rounds before dinner.”

* * *

You looked into the mirror as you took off your make-up. This was harder than you thought it would be. Maybe you were seeing things that weren’t there when you looked at Logan, because tonight he hadn’t been jealous, he’d been more annoyed than anything.

And if this didn’t work, you were going to be a mess. You hadn’t taken into consideration the havoc this would wreak on your senses; kissing, holding and dancing with Logan was heaven. How could you ever go back to the way things had always been if he never returned your feelings?

You were feeling pretty stupid right about now. Something had been off with Logan for the rest of the evening, and you were worried that you had damaged your friendship beyond repair.

You washed your face and put on some sleep shorts and a tank and headed to your bedroom. You picked up your phone to set an alarm and saw that you had two missed calls and some texts from Logan.

L: Pick up

L: Answer the phone

L: Damn it, talk to me

You stared at the phone again as another text rolled in.

L: Are you ignoring me?

You wrinkled your brows in confusion and dialed his number.

“Where have you been?” he answered gruffly.

“Ah, in the bathroom taking off my make-up and stuff. What’s wrong?” you asked, not sure whether to be worried or annoyed.

“Oh.”

“Oh? Four texts and two phone calls in like a half hour and all I get is, 'Oh?’”

“I just…you seemed upset.”

“When was this, Logan?” you asked carefully.

“Pretty much all evening. I wanted to ask on the drive home but I didn’t know what to say,” he said quietly.

“I’m a little worried about how this stupid plan of mine might affect our friendship,” you said after a brief pause.

“Told ya, I’m like herpes, you can’t get rid of me,” he said cheerfully, but you heard an undertone.

“Promise? No matter how stupid this is?” you asked, frightened.

“Hey,” he said gently. “No matter how stupid it is, you’ll still never be as stupid as me. OK?”

“And the kissing and…stuff…that’s not bothering you?” you asked tentatively.

“Well,” he said, “if by 'bothered’ you mean horny, then yes, I’m bothered. Sure you don’t wanna make us friends with benefits?”

“Pretty sure,” you replied drily. “Why? That what you want?”

“Definitely thinking of you a little differently now, not gonna lie.”

“Good or bad?”

“Oh…little of both.”

“Bad?” you asked nervously.

“In the best way,” he said.

“Ohh so you finally noticed I’m a girl,” you said knowlingly.

“Always knew you were a girl,” he assured you. “Now I know you’re a woman.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Let you know when I figure it out.”

“OK,” you whispered. “Night, Logan.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

_Oh man,_  you thought to yourself.  _This could get out of hand in a hurry._

* * *

Things actually went well after that first day, though. You went to several more parties and company events. Every time Logan would ask you who  _he_  was, guessing nearly every male at every gathering, growing more and more frustrated.

Your parents had been out of town at their mountain lodge for the first few weeks of your plan, so when they returned and were going to be at an event you were going to attend with Logan, you thought you’d better give them a warning.

You popped in for breakfast and joined them.

“How was your trip?” you asked as their housekeeper Anna brought you a cup of coffee. You thanked her warmly and asked about her family; she had been with your family for years.

“Wonderful!” your mother gushed. “So peaceful, you and Logan should go.”

“Ohh,” you said. “You heard, huh? Awkward.”

“You sure about this, Brat?” your Dad asked.

“Well, technically…” you began.

“Technically what?” your Mom demanded. “Are you pregnant?”

“What? No! Why would you…? No! Bad, Mom! Intrusive!”

She rolled her eyes; you came by your sarcasm game honestly. “Then, what, Precious?” she said sweetly.

“We’re… fake-dating.”

Your Dad closed his eyes in his patent-pending 'Jesus Christ, why me?’ look and your Mom just stared you down.

“I wanted to make him jealous.”

Nothing.

“But I didn’t want to use someone else to do it. That would be wrong.”

“Oh, yeah,” your Mom agreed sarcastically. “ _That’s_  what would be wrong.”

“Look, I think he could love me if he let himself! I just thought he needed a…nudge.”

Your Dad looked at your Mom. “I blame you for watching 'White Christmas’ with her every year.”

“Oh, shots fired!” you said, trying to use your favorite trick of getting someone else in trouble to get yourself out of it.

“Not this time, sweetcheeks,” your Mom said, knowing you did it to your older siblings and admiring your ingenuity, but this was serious.

“I love him,” you said quietly, looking at the tabletop.

Your parents looked at each other. “Sweetheart, he may not be built to love,” your Mom said gently. “Life isn’t a fairy tale. This may not work.”

You nodded. “And if that’s how this ends up, I’ll accept it.”

“Fine. We’ll play along,” your Dad said. “And be there to pick up the pieces if it doesn’t work.”

You smiled. “Thanks. Knew I could count on you.”

* * *

Logan appeared in your bedroom while you were bent over putting on your shoe. “Did you wait for me to get here to do that?” he said in an irritated tone.

“Put on my shoes?” you asked incredulously. “Ah, yeah. You try wearing these things for a night, you won’t wear them a minute longer than necessary, either.”

“So you put your ass up on purpose? Are you trying to kill me?”

You stood up and looked at him, seeing how tense he was. “You OK?” you asked softly.

“Your parents will be there tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“Your Dad gonna punch me?” he asked in a small voice.

“No!” you exclaimed, rushing over to hug him. “Why would he?”

He wrapped his arms around you and felt…better. “I just don’t think he’d want his daughter with someone like me.”

“Sweetie, they love you,” you said, caressing his beard. “And I told them the truth.”

“Do they know who  _he_  is?” he asked, instantly distracted.

“Yes, but don’t bother, they won’t tell you. Sworn to secrecy.”

He pulled away from you, then looked you up and down. You were wearing a black silk satin slip dress. The deep V in front displayed your cleavage and the criss-cross spaghetti straps were holding up the low back. Logan swallowed hard. All he would have to do was push the straps down your shoulders and it would land in a pool at your feet, then he could drop to his knees and –

“Logan! Is something wrong with my dress?” you asked, the look on his face worrying you.

He cleared his throat. “No. No, you look great.” Then he shook his head. “No, you can’t wear that dress.”

“Why? You said I look great!” you said, offended.

“Because, this,” he said as he put his hands on your shoulders and pushed the straps down, catching you by surprise so that you didn’t catch it and the whole thing fell to the floor, just as it had in his fantasy.

You gasped an indignant, “Logan Delos!”

He closed his eyes and turned on his heel. “Wear something else.”

* * *

_What the fuck was I thinking?_  Logan asked himself as he went in search of a drink. Your body was just as luscious as the last time he’d seen you in a swimsuit, though he’d never seen you topless. He poured himself a drink from the bottle of his favorite Scotch you kept for him. You were more of a wine drinker, so he knew it was for him.

Now that he’d seen you in just the lacy black thong you were wearing under that dress, his rather frequent fantasies of you were going to be even more vivid.

Christ, he wanted you. And not just in his bed. You had always been sort of a caretaker; you made Logan feel special in a warm way that was more than just lust. He actually cared for you as a person.

But you wanted  _him._

It was fuckin’ bullshit that he’d had his head up his ass for the whole time he’d known you, but now that he knew what he wanted, you wanted someone else.

You appeared in a different dress, stopping to spin in the beaded champagne column dress that didn’t even have a slit. “Happy, Dad?”

“You can call me Daddy if you want,” he said with a wink.

“I’m going to be indistinguishable from my Mother. People will ask me where I winter. They’ll complain about Millennials to me! I’ll be offered a senior discount!” you ranted.

Logan laughed. “If your Mom looks that fuckable then I’d do you both.”

“Shame on you!” you scolded him, laughing in spite of yourself. Then you sauntered over to stand in front of him, running your hands up his lapels to his shoulders and gave him a naughty grin. “So, you liked what you saw?”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Not nice to tease, babe.”

“Oh, you can undress me but I can’t ask if you liked what you saw? Absolutely,” you said sarcastically, grabbing your small purse. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

* * *

You were on your fourth week of fake-dating when you asked him to escort you to your cousin’s wedding.

You were lying in bed when you called him to ask.

“Ugh I hate weddings,” he groaned.

“Why?” you asked curiously.

“Women always look at me like I’m a commodity there, like the proximity of wedding vows and flowers make their hormones rage or something. I feel like a piece of eligible meat.”

“I’ll stay close to protect you from the hungry single women,” you said soothingly.

“Fine,” he grudgingly agreed. “Has any of this helped? Has  _he_  shown any sign of being interested?”

“Anxious to get away from me?” you asked softly.

_If you only knew,_  he thought. _I wanna get as close as possible to you._ What he said was, “No, not at all.”

“Good. Pick me up?”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“Relax. We don’t have to stay at the reception long.”

“Movie night after?” he asked hopefully. He had been spending a lot more time with you since he wasn’t out trolling for a pillow partner or two.

“Sure.”

“OK,” he said. “What time?”

“Service is at four, so three o'clock?”

“We’re going to the actual wedding?” he asked, majorly put out.

“Cousin, Logan. Gotta.”

“Fine,” he groaned. “I want cheesecake.”

“Deal. I’ll buy the ingredients tomorrow.”

“K. Night, babe.”

“Night, sweetie.”

Logan disconnected and sighed. He’d thought that the worst part of this favor would be the lack of sex. It had turned out to be so much worse.

Logan was falling in love with you, and you were just dating him to make someone jealous. If this plan of your worked, your friendship could be changed forever.

Logan wasn’t sure what he’d do then. The kisses felt real; the passion was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. How was he supposed to go back to nameless fucking when he had experienced something that felt more real than anything ever had before?

* * *

You were wearing a watercolor floral strapless dress that Tahani would approve, with stiletto ankle strap sandals and an adorable clutch purse. You were really nervous about this outing; there would be tons of family, and even with Logan on your arm they would ask when you would have a ring on your finger.

And you were also nervous about your plan. Frankly, it didn’t seem to be working. Aside from a burning desire to know who _he_  was, Logan didn’t seem to be jealous.

Maybe you should give it up, let him have his life back and try to move on.

You’d been considering a change of scenery. The last thing you’d need for a while was to see him all the time. You had been so sure that he cared for you as more than a friend that you had risked everything. It was definitely going to bite you in the ass.

* * *

You heard Logan come in and roaming around before he called, “Honey, I’m home!”

You sighed. You knew he was joking, but you wanted that statement to be true. “Be right out!”

_Deep breath, dunce._

You walked out to Logan who was lounging on your sofa like he lived there. In fairness, lately he spent almost as much time at your apartment as he did at his own place.

He stood up and looked at you. “You look beautiful, as always,” he complimented you.

“Thank you, sweetie,” you replied with a smile. “Would you latch my necklace for me please?”

“Nice jewelry,” he said.

“Oh, it’s family jewelry. Every time someone wears something that was Grandma’s, it starts a fight.”

“You’re deliberately wearing jewelry that will cause trouble?”

“Yup!”

“Whew, I was worried it was gonna be boring!” he said with a laugh. “And may I say that I dig this side of you!”

You dropped a brief curtsy. “You may!” you said with a giggle.

“C'mon, let’s get going or we’ll get stuck up front.”

“Does lightning strike more in the front part of the church? What’s the big deal?” you asked with a laugh.

“I don’t like clergy looking at me,” he said.

“Babe, everyone looks at you. You’re the most beautiful man in the world,” you said absently. “Car waiting?”

“Yeah,” he answered, inwardly pleased at your compliment. “Gift?”

“Sent it weeks ago. Just us, sweetie.”

“OK off we go, m'lady,” he said bowing before you and offering his arm.

“Oh, I thank you, kind sir.”

You walked to the elevator and then ride down in silence. It didn’t seem to bother Logan, but you were beginning to feel the strain.

He had a limousine waiting and poured champagne for both of you.

Logan had made a decision. Whoever this guy you were trying to make jealous was, if  _he_  was too stupid to make his move on you, Logan certainly wasn’t. He was doing it tonight; he was going to tell you that he wanted to be with you for real.

Needless to say, he felt like puking.

You arrived at the church and the chauffeur opened the door. Logan helped you out and held your hand as you walked up the steps of the cathedral where the wedding was taking place.

“Sweet Pea!” you heard your aunt call you by her pet name for you as she made her way over to you.

“Hi, Aunt Judy!” you sang, pulling her into a hug.

“Hi, sweetie!”

“You know Logan Delos, don’t you?” you asked her.

“Of course. Hello, Logan,” she said with a smile, holding out a hand to him.

He shook her hand and gave her his best smile. For some reason, he was nervous about your favorite aunt seeing the two of you together. Why hadn’t he considered that your family would also be around?

Nevertheless, he put on his best smile and said, “Wonderful to see you.”

“Are you two finally together?” she asked in a pleased voice. “She has been absolutely crazy about you for years, Logan! So glad you finally see what a gem she is!”

You gasped quietly, eyes wide as you looked at Logan. He looked at you in shock and dropped your hand, shaking his head a bit. He turned and walked away. You followed him and grabbed his arm, “Logan, please listen.”

He jerked his arm out of your hand. “You’re about a month too late,  _my love._ ”

He’d said the words so scathingly that you stopped in your tracks. “No,” you whispered.

Aunt Judy came over and took your hand. “What just happened?”

“I have to go,” you said.

“No,” she said. “Don’t follow him. If you follow him now he’ll say something that will hurt you both.”

You nodded; she barely knew him but you knew she was right. “Yeah, you’re right,” you said dully.

“Talk to me.”

* * *

You went into the church and found a little corner that didn’t have people milling around and told her how you had come up with the plan to make Logan jealous of himself and she told you that it was a really bad plan. You told her you figured that out all by yourself.

You sat through the ceremony, though the genuine love on your cousin’s face as she said her vows made you cry for yourself and not necessarily for the beauty of the moment.

You did give her genuine congratulations in the receiving line, though. Then you called a car and went home, skipping the reception to go home and eat the cheesecake you made for Logan and cry.

* * *

You trudged down the hall to your apartment, unlocking it on autopilot and tossing your purse and keys on the table inside the door. You had held your phone in your hands the whole way home, both wishing for him to message you and restraining yourself from messaging him.

He deserved some time away from you if that was what he wanted, no matter how much it hurt.

You shuffled past the dining room table, noting the half-eaten cheesecake and crumbs that you needed to clean – wait, what?

You spun and looked into your living room to see Logan on the sofa with a plate of cheesecake in his hand. Your heart leapt to think that he was waiting for you, but you restrained yourself; he had been really pissed. He may just have come over to eat his beloved cheesecake and give you hell.

You approached him slowly, tentatively.

“You make a damn good cheesecake, babe,” he said, waving his fork for emphasis.

“Thanks,” you said, a little freaked out at the calm he was displaying.

“And I must admit, your plan for luring me into your deceiful web was a good one.”

There it was. “Logan, I know it was stupid –”

“No no!” he interrupted. “I’m speaking.”

“Of course. Sorry.”

“I mean, don’t you think you’ve made enough decisions for me lately?”

“You’re right, yes.”

He leaned forward and set his plate on the coffee table and got to his feet, then stalked over to you. “And, please, please don’t let the fact that it worked encourage you to do anything like this ever again.”

You were looking down and nodding, agreeing with everything he said when it occurred to you what he said.

Your head popped up. “It worked?” you whispered.

He nodded slowly.

“You…wanted to be with me?”

He shook his head no.

“Oh…OK, then,” you whispered, eyes back on your feet. “Just, out of curiosity, if you didn’t want to be with me, how did it work?”

“You said it in the past tense,” he clarified. “Despite your ridiculous scheme, I found my sack. I love you. I want to be with you, now and forever.”

You looked back up. “Really?” you said with a tremulous smile.

“Really,” he answered, pulling you into his arms. “I wanted to stay mad at you, but I couldn’t. Can’t be without you now that I’ve gotten you into my system.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry I tricked you.”

He leaned away and tipped your chin up and kissed you gently. “I’m not. I would never have allowed myself to want you otherwise,” he said honestly. “Hey!”

“What?”

“That was our first honest kiss.”

You smiled. “May I have a second?”

“You can have them all.”

“I like the sound of that, Logan.”

“Me, too,” he said, and then he proceeded to give you all of his kisses, happily ever after.


	25. The Easiest Thing

“Yes, Dad. Yes. Yes, I am aware of that.” Pause. “OK. Yes, I know that I work a lot.” Another pause. “I dunno what to tell ya, Pop. Apparently I’m a caustic bitch and no man will touch me with a ten foot pole, according to you and Grandma.” Pause. “Yes, sorry, I do realize that my sarcasm is rarely helpful. But there’s always a chance that this will be the time that it is, so I hold out hope.” 

Logan was sitting next to you as you awaited your flight, snickering at your side of the conversation. He was one of the few people that found your sarcasm and biting wit amusing, even when you aimed it at him. He’d been hinting that you should get together, but with his philandering ways you were definitely keeping him in the friend zone.

“Dad, we’re going to be boarding soon. Singapore. About a week. I know. Logan. No. No! Yes, I know. We’re friends. Ugh Dad I gotta go. Ok bye,” you said and quickly ended the call before he could make any more suggestions.

“That sounded fun,” Logan drawled, emphasizing the u in ‘fun.’

“Shut up,” you snapped. “You’re lucky, your inheritance doesn’t have strings attached.”

“Hell, as it stands, I may not inherit anything at all,” he muttered bitterly. “I’m telling you, you should just marry me. We’d be great together.”

“Ha. Right. You forget, Logan dear, I know you.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have taken you to Westworld with me,” he grumbled.

“Eh, that’s just a game. But I don’t think I’d be all that keen on your sexual escapades if we were together. And I want someone who will be faithful. You, dearest, are just not capable,” you pronounced.

“I dunno. Somehow I think you’d be enough for any man,” he said in a sexy voice, leaning over to put his chin on your shoulder.

“Ugh, turn off the charm, lover boy.”

“Whaaaat? I’m naturally charming, how can you turn off the sun?” he said with a huge grin.

You put your hand on his cheek, looked deep into his eyes and said, “Can you at least turn off the bullshit?”

Logan threw his head back and laughed. “You would keep me in line and my parents actually approve. You should totally marry me.”

“Yes. Your parents’ approval means the world to me,” you said with a sarcastic eyeroll.

“Well, logic and reasoning have not gotten the job done. Time for plan B,” Logan announced officially.

“And what, pray tell, is Plan B? Except a favor in your Morning After gift baskets?” you asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him.

Logan narrowed his eyes at you, both impressed and annoyed at your quick wit. “Plan B, my darling, is to make you fall in love with me.”

“Oh Logan. Honey, sweetie, baby,” you began sympathetically. “Falling in love with you would be the easiest thing in the world. Sadly, I will never allow that to happen.”

“While I appreciate that you think it would be easy, and it warms my heart to know it saddens you, why won’t you allow yourself to do the natural thing and fall in love with me?” he said in a very sexy, deep voice.

“A few reasons, actually.”

“I await them with bated breath,” he breathed as he leaned closer.

“As I said, I know you. I don’t see you as the faithful sort,” you began.

“Maybe I haven’t been with the right person yet,” he countered.

“This isn’t a negotiation, Logan! I’m explaining why I won’t let it happen.”

“I beg your pardon. Do continue,” he said in a professional manner.

“Thank you. I would be too sad to lose you as a friend if we didn’t work out,” you said seriously.

“A fair concern,” he conceded.

“And finally, I really do still have dewy-eyed romantic notions and want to marry for love.”

Logan looked down and then gently took your hand. “Then marry me, because I love you.”

You squeezed his hand. “Like I said, it would be the easiest thing in the world, but I just can’t let it happen. And I can’t believe that you would really want to be with just one person.”

“Not just any one person, Y/N,” he whispered.

The PA went off announcing your flight boarding First Class passengers. You grabbed your carry-on and headed to the jetway, Logan close behind.

After you got settled into your adjoining suites and lowered the wall between them, Logan resumed the conversation. “Who else are you going to marry? Nobody else knows you like I do.”

“You say that like it’s a bonus. You know too much about me, Delos.”

“I disagree. I would think you would want someone who knows everything and still wants you,” he countered.

“Oh, please. There is no mystery left between us!” you said incredulously. “You have to have some puzzles left to solve or you get bored.”

“Oh, I can think of a few mysteries I’d like to solve,” he purred. “And I promise, we’d never get bored.”

“Do any of these mysteries’ answers lie outside a bedroom door?” you asked pertly.

“Sweetheart, I’d be happy to solve a few of them as soon as the fasten seatbelts light goes off.”

“Oh, really? And what mysteries would those be?” you asked sarcastically.

He gave you a smoldering look filled with desire. When he spoke, his voice was pitched low and a little rough. “If I can make your heart race with my fingertips. If you moan when I whisper your name against your neck. If your lips are as soft as they look. If you gasp when I kiss you. How you taste. If my fingers brushing along your ribs makes you shiver.”

You had drifted into a trance of sorts, the timbre of his voice mixed with the fantasy his words spun had your eyes lidded heavily in desire. Then you physically shook your head and said, “No mystery there. That’s just chemistry and we already know we have that.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked. “How do we know that?”

“Because we’re friends,” you said as if it was completely obvious.

“That’s not the same thing,” he said in a husky voice. “But I bet it will make it so much better when you accept that we’re meant to be together.”

You smiled at him and flipped the switch to raise the partition between your seats, ignoring his complaint of, “Oh, real mature, Y/N,” and flipping the lock.

Marry Logan. What a nightmare.

Oh, it wasn’t that you didn’t adore him, or that you weren’t mad attracted to him. He was utterly gorgeous, you freely admitted that.

But, his absolute one major flaw was in fact his perfection. You knew you would fall head over heels in love with him if you ever loosened the reins on your feelings for him, and that would just be stupid because Logan Delos was simply incapable of fidelity.

Oh, he probably believed that he was in love with you, but you knew it was a forbidden fruit situation: he couldn’t have you so there was nothing on Earth that he wanted more. It would be amazing until it wasn’t anymore, and then Logan would move on and leave you in ruins, without even your best friend to help you through it. He would leave and take everything with him.

That was why you would never allow yourself to fall.

* * *

 

About an hour later, Logan tapped on the divide quietly, not wanting to wake you if you were sleeping but not wanting to give you time to let your anger fester if you were awake.

He had never felt the regret of his long-standing rebellion against his father so keenly as he did at this moment. He’d had an idea of your opinion of him before, but never had you laid it out so openly; you thought he was a selfish man-child who could never be with one person.

And in retrospect, it was an entirely fair assumption. He’d been wild since he was a kid and tried to get his father’s attention by getting into trouble. When he got older and realized his methods of gaining his father’s notice would never gain him his love, he just decided to keep raising hell for the sake of raising hell. What did he care if he embarrassed the family and brought shame to their name? What had being a Delos ever gotten him except all the toys he could ever want? Toys weren’t love, things weren’t love, and people who only stayed around because of the things he could buy or do for them would never love him.

But you stayed, and fuck, he loved you. Now he just had to convince you he could be a good husband.

Logan liked a challenge; apparently so much so that he had spent his life making himself out to be a completely feckless manwhore.

Then he got an idea. Could be brilliant, could work.

He tapped again.

* * *

 

You rolled your eyes at the partition and lowered the wall. “I’m working, Logan. Don’t start with your bullshit again.”

“You’re right, of course. I might have good intentions but we both know I’d fall off the wagon one way or another,” he said with a self-deprecating smile.

“Oh,” you said, argument at the ready now unnecessary.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “You still have the same problem, though.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I have my Dad and Grandma for that.”

“What if we got married – hear me out!” he interrupted himself when he saw that you were about to interrupt him. “What if we got married so you could get your inheritance and then in a year or two we quietly get divorced?”

“What’s the catch?” you asked suspiciously.

“No catch,” Logan said, holding his hands up as if to show they were empty. “We both sign prenups so that when the time comes all we do is sign a paper and we’re done.”

You smiled sweetly. “Did you perhaps forget the child clause?”

“No, did you perhaps forget that you can go to a doctor to get pregnant if making one the old fashioned way is so repugnant?” he responded coolly.

“It’s not repugnant,” you whispered, looking away from him.

“Look, I’m not marrying anyone else. You don’t want a real marriage with me, fine. Have a fake one and get what you want, then we get divorced, stay friends and you find someone you can be with.”

“What’s in it for you?”

Logan shrugged. “You’re my friend. I don’t have so many real friends that that’s a small thing.” He paused a moment and said, “Maybe I get to be a better father than my dad was to me. But either way, I get to have a kid with my best friend. And you have good genes, so it would be a good-looking kid.”

You thought about it, you really did. “No, Logan. I mean, I appreciate it, but I still don’t want the world to think I’m a sap who married a cheater, even if our marriage is a sham. I have enough pride that I don’t want to look like a pathetic, weak woman who stays with a philanderer.”

He smiled like a shark. “I can be discreet, Y/N,” he said sharply.

“Can I think about this? I mean…we just went from besties to you proposing for real to marriage of convenience. It’s all a little Hallmark channel for me to take in, y'know?”

“Take all the time you need,” he said casually. “You’re the one on the clock, not me.”

* * *

 

Could you stand to be married to Logan, knowing that to the world, you would be the luckiest woman in the world, the amazing person who had landed Logan Delos, the most eligible, most handsome, sexiest bachelor around? He was smart, funny, had the most endearing way about him, was always there for you when you needed him; if it weren’t for the oversexed manwhore thing, he really would be perfect.

But he would cheat. He wasn’t built for monogamy. Hell, he wasn’t even built for one gender, let alone one person!

* * *

 

You had landed and checked into your hotel suites; Logan’s secretary had made the travel arrangements so you were on the same floor but down the hall a ways for discretion. No one expected Logan to sleep alone, but neither did anyone need to be kept awake with the festivities. You also automatically got two keys for each room and swapped for when one of you wouldn’t wake up or locked yourself out.

You traveled together a lot.

You were thinking about his proposals; you had thought of little else since the airport. And of course, you had to say no. A larger part of you than you had ever acknowledged before wanted to say yes – to the original proposal. To be with your best friend, the person you liked best in the world already…wow. He was truly your favorite person.

But that didn’t mean you were a dewy-eyed fool who didn’t see him. You had seen him drunk, high, pulled him out of more orgies than you could count and had even stood by his side when he was stupid to the point of being ridiculous.

You had been around him when he had been at his lowest after William tried to kill him and his family took the lying prick’s side over Logan. You had been there for everything for over a decade, and there was one thing you knew about Logan: he never lied. Indeed, he had driven people away from him with his inability to blow sunshine up their asses. You got what you saw with Logan Delos.

Logan never lied and he said he was in love with you. That was a surprise, but it really didn’t change anything. He didn’t lie, but he was also an adrenaline junkie. When he got bored, he would stray.

* * *

 

Logan picked you up at your room for dinner. You had a lovely meal and he never brought up the topic of marriage. He knew you well enough to know that any mention of the topic before you were ready would be taken as badgering.

So he ate, drank, complimented you on your dress in a completely asexual way and generally acted like nothing had changed, like he hadn’t completely exposed himself emotionally as he never had before in his life. Physically he was entirely without modesty but emotionally – well, he had pretty much been sweating since the airport conversation.

You kept waiting for him to bring it up, surprised at his restraint. Usually waiting for something wasn’t Logan’s strong suit. “So,” you said.

“So,” he repeated, relieved that one way or the other he was about to be put out of his misery.

“I appreciate the offer. Both offers.”

“But,” he said, quietly and bitterly.

“I know you, Logan,” you began gently. “If you say you love me, then yes, I believe you. You have never lied to me, or anyone else that I’m aware of, for that matter. But I just don’t see how it could last? You’ve rarely had the same sex partner for more than a few weeks. I’m supposed to believe that I can be enough for you forever?”

Logan stayed silent, eyes blazing but not interrupting.

“And your second offer…Logan, someone would figure it out. You’d get sloppy and someone would see you with someone else. So that one can’t work either.”

“So you’re suggesting you would accept plan number two if I agree to be celibate for the duration of our marriage,” he said reasonably.

“No! I absolutely wasn’t suggesting that, no!” you said, shocked. “Logan, I know you couldn’t go two years or so without sex.”

“Of course not,” he agreed with a tight smile, chugging the rest of his drink. “I’m just a caricature of a man who has no wants or needs outside of busting a nut, right?”

“Logan.”

“No, I mean, when it comes right down to it, you don’t think any more highly of me than my father does, do you?” he snarled.

“That is not fair, Delos!” you hissed hotly. “Just because you can’t have me the way you want me doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Logan got to his feet. “We’re done. I don’t want to see you outside of work.”

“Logan,” you said, becoming worried, “you can’t mean that!”

He chuckled. “As far as you’re concerned, I don’t mean anything I say. I guess we’ll see.”

And with that parting shot he left the restaurant, not looking back.

You watched him leave, totally in shock. Life without Logan? Unthinkable. He was being completely unreasonable.

You signaled the server who had been discreetly keeping his distance, signing the check and heading back up to your room.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you got into the elevator.

* * *

 

You went straight to your room and got ready for bed. You wondered if Logan had gone to his room or if he was out trolling for someone to spite-fuck.

The entire situation was overwhelming and crushing. You were still crying at the thought of losing your best friend. You always considered yourself the rock of your relationship, but really, Logan had always been there for you when you needed him, too. And right now you needed him. How could he just throw you away like this?

You sat up in bed. No, this was bullshit. You’d been through too much together to lose him now.

But – Logan had never threatened to end your friendship before. And you had fought – no decade-long friendship in existence was without rough spots. You’d had some fights, but you always knew that you would make up.

But this time, Logan was angry, hurt, confused and humiliated. And you were angry, hurt, confused and bullied from multiple directions. Your parents, your grandmother, now Logan – Jesus, why was everyone trying to tell you how to live your life?

You made a decision and got out of bed. You were taking back control of your life.

* * *

 

Logan woke up when his alarm went off the next morning, hungover and regretting his asinine behavior. Not only had he tried to coerce his best friend into marrying him when she didn’t return his feelings but he had told her that basically they weren’t friends anymore.  _Christ, Logan, are you five?_  he berated himself.

He hurriedly got out of bed and showered, dressed and practically ran down the hall to your room. When he arrived, though, the maid’s cart was outside the door. Curiously he looked into the room. There was no sign of you being there. He double checked the room number…the fuck?

“Ah, excuse me?” he asked the maid, who jumped in surprise. “Where is the room’s occupant? There was a woman staying here?”

“Checked out,” the scared maid answered quietly.

Logan felt terror wash over him unlike anything he had ever experienced. He nodded to the maid and stepped into the hallway, trying your phone, but it went straight to voicemail. Then he called his secretary to have her cancel his meetings.

“Logan, what the hell is going on over there?” she answered the phone.

“What?” he said, surprise at his usually staid assistant answering a call from him that way.

“Your Father is losing his shit, William has been here every five minutes and Y/N’s assistant just came by crying and said she quit!”

“Y/N’s secretary quit?” he asked.

“No!” she said loudly. “Y/N quit!”

“WHAT?” he yelled.

“Yeah. I repeat, what the hell is going on over there?”

“I…was an asshole. Don’t tell my Dad,” he said, feeling about four years old. Which was fair, since that’s how mature he’d been with you. “I’ll find her. I’ll fix it.”

“FIND HER?” he heard her screech before he disconnected.

He was so fucked.

* * *

 

Logan called your mobile, texted, hell he DMd you on every platform he could think of; none said you were active, his messages were unread. He had called your parents and grandmother, other friends and even his sister. Nothing. You had apparently done the unthinkable and turned your phone off.

He still left messages, hoping that sooner or later you would need your phone for something and see him trying to get you. Christ, he was such a fucking idiot! Why would he say something so hurtful, so…final? He wasn’t capable of life without you.

He had racked his brain for hours while he paced his hotel room, trying to figure out where the hell you had gone so he could go find you and grovel.

And then he had an idea. It was pretty far out there, but then so was quitting your job and taking off like you did. If this wasn’t where you went, he would be wasting a lot of time.

_Fuck it,_  he thought. This was the only thing he could think of.

* * *

 

Logan found himself in a rental Jeep, quite possibly on a wild goose chase.

The only place he could think of that you would go was this crappy motel where the two of you had gotten stranded in during a storm that had shut down the airport.

“C'mon, Delos, let’s drive!” you’d coaxed.

“Why would it be safe to drive when it isn’t safe to fly?” he’d asked in exasperation.

“Because we’ll go around the storm! It’ll be an adventure. Or do you only like your adventures with robots you can screw these days?” you’d challenged him.

“I seem to recall you heading off to a room with a cowboy or three when we went,” he said, still illogically resentful. He hadn’t even fucked a host that night he’d been so jealous. Which was stupid for any number of reasons, but mainly because they weren’t real and you weren’t his.

“Eh, one robot orgy was enough for me. I prefer to see a little feeling in my partner’s eyes, thanks.”

“That why you never get laid?” he asked, genuinely curious, but also jealous.

“How do you know I never get laid? Maybe I just don’t tell you?” you said, sassy as hell and sexy as fuck.

“Ha,” he said, allowing you to less him to the rental car counter. “You tell me everything. Hell, I know when you get your period.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda weird when you send me period flowers every month, though,” you said.

“Should I stop?”

“Nah,” you said with a laugh. “Said it was weird, didn’t say I don’t like it.”

* * *

 

You had chosen an SUV and gotten behind the wheel before Logan could, so he was shotgun and bitching.

“This is so not the most direct route,” he said.

“So?”

“I mean, we have a destination.”

“We’re going home. You have something pressing waiting for you at home? Wife and kiddies waiting for you by the door?” you asked sarcastically.

“Eat me,” he growled.

“I am a bit peckish,” you said with a grin. “But I don’t think I’m ready to resort to cannibalism.”

“Why are you so fuckin’ perky?” he asked with his grouch face set for the foreseeable future.

“I dunno,” you said. “Open road, best friend with me, seeing places I haven’t before.”

“Taking side roads and possibly getting to play out the 'Dueling Banjos’ scenes from 'Deliverance.’”

“All I hear is 'wah wah wah,’ ya big damned baby.”

“What the fuck are we even doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” he griped.

“The world is round, Logan,” you said wisely. “We’ll get there.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “I’m gonna take a nap.”

“Whatever,” you mimicked. “May as well, I’ve ridden to a funeral with better company.”

* * *

 

Logan was awakened by a loud banging noise, followed by being jerked into the window where he’d been leaning and bumping his head. “Ow!” he exclaimed. “What the fuck?”

You were pulling the SUV over to the side of the road and putting on the hazard lights. It was dusk and you had been following signs to a small town to get gas, pee and maybe get a bite to eat when you had hit an absolute monster pothole. “Shit,” you hissed, knowing that this would give Logan more ammo for bitching about your plan. “I hit a pothole, I think the tire blew.”

“This whole trip blows,” he growled, opening the door to go and look.

“Fuck,” you whispered, then got out to follow him.

The tire was flat and the rim appeared to be bent. The best part, though, was that you didn’t appear to have a signal to call anyone.

Logan was seething at the side of the road, so mad at you that he wanted to – oh, who was he kidding, he still wanted to kiss you, but maybe a little angry sex would be nice, too.

“Look, get back in the truck and I’ll walk to town and find a phone,” you said reasonably.

Logan looked at you with the absolute dirtiest, most condescending expression you had ever seen on his face. “Do you really think I would let you walk into the setting for 'The Hills Have Eyes’ by yourself?”

“You watch too many movies, Delos,” you said as you opened the back of the SUV and hopped in so that you could open your suitcase and put on better shoes for walking a couple miles, then shrugged and pulled your blouse off and put on a t-shirt.

“What am I, a eunuch? You just undress in front of me?” he asked in a huff.

“Oh, please, like I have anything you haven’t seen before,” you muttered as you pulled your top over your head, then hopped out of the back. “Christ, if you’re that pissy about my top I guess I won’t change into jeans.”

Logan closed his eyes against the sight of you in panties and dug his own trainers out of his bag, then said fuck it and changed into gym shorts and a t-shirt, too.

“Yeah, baby, take it off!” you cheered.

“What part of my mood says that this is a good time to be an asshole?” he growled.

You shrugged. “You’re eye candy, I can’t enjoy it?”

“Just,” he began, “can we just not? I just want to hike to whatever podunk town you 'world is rounded’ us to and call a tow truck. OK?”

He sounded so tired that you decided not to give him any more shit. You walked together silently for a while until you grabbed his hand. He looked down at you and smiled grudgingly. “You’re still an asshole.”

“I love you, too, Logan.”

* * *

 

You trudged wearily into town. It may have only been a couple of miles, but it had literally been uphill all the way. You were both exhausted, sweaty and starving. Logan had stopped to pee because men get all the breaks and he could just whip it out and go, but your eyeballs were floating. He talked to the waitress in the diner while you went to the bathroom.

You came out to find him at a table looking at a menu, glass of water already half empty. You sat down across from him in the booth and said, “What’s the story?”

“She let me use the phone for a small fee and I called a tow truck. There appears to be but one garage in town and it does not open until the weekend hath passed, and so yon goodwife bids us to enjoy our stay here in the land that time hast forgotten.”

You flinched. “You seem upset. Or in the mood for a Ren Faire.”

“Oh it gets better. They have a motor lodge.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, can’t we call the rental company? Or Delos?”

“Tomorrow. I just want food, a shower and a bed. We can deal with this massive cluster fuck in the morning.”

“How do we get to the motor lodge?” you asked, picking up a sticky menu.

“The tow truck driver will take us into town.”

“Fabulous.”

* * *

 

“Thank you!” you called to the driver as he let you and Logan off at the motel.

“Thank you,” Logan mocked you quietly.

“Oh my God, could you be a bigger bitch right now?” you hissed at him as you walked to the office.

“Oh I bet I could,” he said sweetly.

“I have decided I don’t want to go on road trips with you anymore,” you announced grandly.

“Egads, how will I go on?” he said snidely.

You stuck your tongue out at him as he pushed into the office and went to the counter, ringing the bell on the counter as he looked around in distaste.

Two unwashed men came out of the office where you could hear a video game playing. “Help you?”

“Yeah, we need two rooms,” Logan said.

“Yes sir,” he said solicitously. He handed Logan two keys. “You wanna join us down at the Red Dawg for a beer, sweetheart?”

“No, I’m just really tired,” you said with a chilly smile.

“You let us know if you get cold, we’ll come and warm you right up.”

“I think I’ll be fine.”

“Ah, can’t help but notice that you gave us rooms on the opposite ends of the building,” Logan said in an unfriendly tone.

“Other rooms are all rented,” he said.

Logan looked at the board that was missing exactly two keys, both of which were on the counter. He looked at you. “Yeah, we’re just gonna need one room.”

* * *

 

You walked out of the office and down to the room that you were sharing, swearing you would be as sweet as humanly possible to Logan from now on. When you closed the door and put the chain lock on, you surveyed the surprisingly clean room.

You turned to Logan and pulled him into a hug. “You are truly my hero, Logan Delos. Thank you.”

He hugged you back. “Yeah, those two skeeved me out. I’d never let anything happen to you, though. You know that.”

“I just…this is all my fault and it sucks and you’re still my Knight in shining armor. Thank you, Sir Logan.”

Logan dropped a kiss on top of your head and said, “There’s only one bed so you can pay me back later.” Then he winked and went to check out the bathroom.

“Had to ruin it, didn’t ya?”

“That’s me, Logan Delos, Ruiner of Moments.”

“I don’t care, you’re still my hero. And I am going to tell your Dad.”

“Christ, no, I have a degenerate reputation to uphold!” he joked.

“Yeah yeah,” you let him win. “Since you’re riding the wave of heroism, you can have the first shower. I’ll go grab some ice.”

“Hey…I’ll go get ice. I don’t want you out there with those fuckin’ perverts. I want you in here with this fuckin’ pervert.”

“Wow, thanks big brother,” you said. “I feel so protected.”

“Don’t be stupid. The closest family you could ever be is like second or third cousin.”

“What, I’m not good enough to be your sister?” you asked indignantly.

“Ah no, but I’d prefer to have you distant enough that it’s not illegal for us to fuck and our kids won’t have two heads,” he said as he closed the bathroom door.

_What what what???_

* * *

 

He came out in a towel that barely covered him. “Still plenty of hot water and I am about to remove my towel, so unless you want to get an eyeful of my junk –” 

“I’m going, you exhibitionist trollop,” you said, grabbing your bag and heading into the bathroom.

Logan was being weird. He was your best friend, and you assumed that you held the same position with him, so you had always tamped down any other feelings you had for him. Of course you did! Logan would never settle down, what was the point of allowing yourself to love him in any way but platonically?

You came out to find Logan dropped in bed with one hand behind his head, bicep and shoulder looking good, just boxer briefs on, smooth chest begging to be bitten, lower abdomen begging to be licked as you pull his underwear down with your teeth –  _Get. It. Together!_

“Anything on?” you said as casually as you could considering you were just pondering whether he was circumcised and whether you could deep throat him.

“Nah,” he said, flipping the TV off. “Ice is over there and I went to a vending machine and got you junk food and soda.”

“Talk like that could turn a girl’s head. I might have to tell my daddy that you took advantage of me so he makes you marry me,” you said with a wink.

_All it would take would be a Nerf gun, sweetheart._  “Ew but you have cooties!”

“I may not be a smart woman, but I know what love is,” you said in your best Forrest Gump voice. “Be mah Jenny!” You dove into the bed and started tickling Logan while he laughed and told you that you were an absolute imbecile.

You finally stopped your tussling and laughing and curled up next to him in the bed. “Thanks for not being a giant dick about all this, Logan. Sorry I fucked up.”

“Nobody I’d rather be stranded with and possibly risking my life to protect than you, babe.”

“Night.”

“Night.”

* * *

 

Logan woke up the next morning, his arm around your waist holding your back against his chest. Neither of you thought a thing of sleeping in the same bed; your relationship was platonic, no matter that Logan wanted more.

You had been friends for almost seven years. The two of you had hit it off from the first time you shot him down; you worked together, you weren’t going to tank your career by sleeping with the boss.

Logan respected that one helluva lot more than the dozens of disposable middle management he’d banged over the years. His father had long complained that he was sick of Logan using Delos HR as his personal escort service.

Hell, he knew he was hot; he could get anyone he wanted for the most part. Unfortunately, what started out as attraction had turned into respect, and then he had just found himself completely in love.

Nothing would come of it, of course. He wasn’t sure he even wanted anything to come of it. You we’re best friends, you took care of each other, you stood by each other – what was missing from your relationship? Sex? He could get that anywhere.

But…just, what if sex with love was different? Better?

What if the part that was missing did matter?

You began to stir and interrupted his musings. He quickly closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep so that you could slip out of bed unnoticed, or so you would think. That’s how this play was acted: the oblivious heroine and the hapless, lovesick fool.

You woke up to find Logan’s arms wrapped around you and his legs tangled with yours. He was such a contradictory man; awake he was as guarded as any person you had ever known. Asleep, however, he became a cuddly sweetheart.

You wondered which was the real Logan, the snarky manwhore whose motto was 'do anything to anything’ or the sweet, affectionate man who cuddled in his sleep and had different flowers and special imported chocolate delivered to you every month for your period because he knew that you had issues that cause you to have really bad pain with your cycle?

You shook off those thoughts and wriggled out of Logan’s hold. It was really too bad he was off limits. In every other way he was perfect.

You used the bathroom and washed up, pushing your hair into some semblance of order and pulling on some jeans, a hoodie and your trainers. You figured you’d go for a stroll before Logan woke up.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” his sleepy voice said from the bed.

You looked over at him, wide-eyed at being caught and stunned as ever at his male beauty. Did he have to be so adorable with bedhead and sleepy eyes?

“Um for a walk?” you answered defensively,as if you had been caught doing something naughty.

“Uh uh. Not without me.”

“What?” you asked incredulously.

“Did you forget Bubba and Jimbo? Just wait for me,” he said as he got out of bed.

You tried not to look, you really did. But that man…that man…

“If you’re done eye-humping me, I’ll go get dressed,” he said smugly.

“I was – shut up.”

He chuckled as he closed the bathroom door.

* * *

 

“It’s not so bad here,” you said, looking out at the mountains behind the motor lodge.

“Are you… _fucking_  kidding me?” Logan exclaimed. “I personally cannot wait until someone from Delos comes and rescues us from 'The Devil’s Rejects.’”

“Christ, enough with the horror flicks,” you groaned. “I’m just saying…we’re unplugged, nice landscape, just us… it’s nice. I wouldn’t mind coming back here on purpose some day.”

He sat down next to you and watched you looking around and said, “Breathtakingly beautiful.”

* * *

 

Logan flew into the airport where the two of you had been stranded and rented a Jeep, making sure that there was a decent spare in it before he took off.

Next stop was a convenience store for snacks, drinks, a paper map in case the coverage hadn’t improved in the last three years, and cash for bribes and he was on his way.

A few hours later, he recognized the spot where you had hit the pothole and the tire had blown. He kept going, not allowing himself to think about what he was going to do if you weren’t here.

It was a warm, sunny day and Logan kept muttering some version of, “Please be here,” over and over as he drove around behind the motor lodge, looking for that spot where you had sat and just absorbed the peace you had stumbled across.

He got out of the Jeep and walked over to where you were leaning against the same tree you’d sat beneath three years ago.

He dropped down next to you and said, “Well, I’ve had a day.”

“We don’t work together anymore, Mr. Delos. You have no reason to be here,” you said in a flat tone, refusing to look at him. “And that also means we have nothing to discuss.”

He sighed heavily. “Babe, I was hurt and humiliated and yeah, a giant asshole. It was really shitty of me, and I am more sorry than you can believe.”

“So?”

“So?” Logan repeated in shock.

“Yeah. So?”

“So I came all this way –” he began.

“How’d you find me? I didn’t use plastic, I mailed my tech home, I haven’t been on social media. Did you have a GPS surgically implanted in me?” you asked, still in the same dull, disinterested voice. “Was your Dad so put out that he sent you after me like a good little lap-dog?”

“No!” he snapped, then calmed himself. After all, this was mostly his fault. “I remembered what you said about this place. I thought you might come here. I couldn’t think of anywhere else you’d go that you wouldn’t be found easily.”

“Well, apparently I chose poorly,” you sneered.

“Or maybe you could just accept that I know you this well. I mean, yeah, it was a dick move but I dragged my hung over ass down to apologize first thing and you were gone,” he said quietly. “And I have never been more afraid in my life, sweetheart.”

“Oh, Daddy-O a little miffed?” you asked faux-sympathetically.

“No, fuck him! I was afraid that you wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t find you again in time to tell you that I’m a goddamn idiot! You don’t believe I love you, but you’re wrong. And,” he took a deep breath here and blurted nervously, “I think you love me and that we should give us a try.”

“Logan,” you said, at least in your normal warning voice.

“We date! Just because we love each other doesn’t mean we have to get engaged or married right away. But what about the absolute most vile pre-nup on the planet? I’ll sign any fidelity clause you want, babe, because I don’t want anyone but you.”

“Why would you do that?” you asked, astounded. “Your father won’t allow it.”

“Eh I’ll make sure it’s ironclad. We’ll have your Dad’s lawyers write it.”

“You’re so sure that you can remain celibate…” you began.

“Wait, I wasn’t through. I want a blend of the two previous offers. I’ll be faithful either way; however, if I can seduce you…” he trailed off while make kissy faces and wiggling his eyebrows ridiculously, even going so far as to make his thumb and forefinger of one hand into an 'o’ and then slide a finger through.

“Yes, Logan, you hope to seduce me, I caught on fairly quickly,” you said drily. After a moment, you said, “You broke my heart, Logan, and we weren’t even involved romantically.”

“When we fight, I promise not to storm off like a five year old. You deserve so much better and I feel terrible about it,” he said quietly, gently reaching over and laying his hand on yours.

You nodded and looked out into the distance but gave his hand a squeeze, allowing him to take his first deep breath since he found you. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Yeah?” he said quietly, encouraging you to share when you were ready.

“Yeah,” you said, turning your body to face Logan. “I thought I’d die when you walked away.”

“I’m sorry,” he began, but you waved it away.

“It woke me up.”

“Oh?” he asked, allowing a tiny glimmer of hope in his heart to come to life.

“I’ve been in love with you for years, Logan. That’s why I couldn’t find a guy no matter how many dates my family set me up on. My heart’s been taken for years and I was too – I dunno, scared or in denial I guess? – to see what was right in front of me. So I’ve been thinking about what I’d do if I ever had another chance.”

“Yeah?” Logan whispered hopefully, as if worried that anything above a whisper would break the spell you were clearly under. “What’d you decide?”

You flipped your leg under you and got on one knee. “You, Logan Delos, are the man I love, and if you’ll have me, it would be my honor to marry you, be your wife, the mother of your children and I hope still your best friend.”

Logan looked at you dumbly for a moment, and you began to sweat. “D'you mean it, babe? You’re not like screwing with me?” he looked down to ask.

You placed your hands on his face and lifted so that you were looking into his eyes. “I swear to you with all that I am and the babies I want to conceive naturally, I love you and want to be with you forever.”

Logan pulled you into his lap and kissed you, and oh you felt like you were floating, almost like it was a dream but when he bit your lip and absolutely ravished your mouth, you knew that it was real and you were the luckiest woman in the world.

You finally broke apart, both panting and grinning. “Yes, I will marry you. Will you marry me?”

You giggled. “Yes, Logan, I will happily be your wife. And I want babies and I wanna buy this town and make this our own tiny empire.”

He looked around, speculative eye taking in the surrounding area from a business point of view. “Yeah. I think we’d be great here. We’ll make our own life here, away from everyone who tries to tell us who we are all the time.”

“I know who I am, and who I want to be, now.” You caressed his cheek. “I’m not afraid of loving you anymore, Logan.”

He got the most peaceful, beautiful smile on his perfect face. “Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you for seeing something worth loving in me.”

“Oh, love, it was always there and I always saw it. I think we just needed for you to get back to a place where you could love and respect yourself again.”

“Thank you,” he said seriously. “For so many things, but mostly for never giving up on me, and Christ, for forgiving my latest bullshit.”

You shrugged. “We’re both assholes. We’re going to fight. We just need to try and be careful with each other’s hearts.”

“I promise, babe. Forever.”

“Forever,” you whispered, kissing him again.

You sat under your tree for hours, discussing your plans, making notes for potential businesses to attract, to schedule a town meeting, zoning, building permits, purchasing the land…it was going to be a big project. To actually build your life together, away from the toxic families and obnoxious, freeloading friends; well, it seemed like an ideal solution.

Bottom line, you and Logan were a team, and together you knew you would be unstoppable.

This was where you would build your home and lay your roots, something you for which had both dreamed. You would make a home for each other and your children, and help build a town around you. The pull of the mountains brought you a peace that the bustle of the coast could never give.

You were home, both on this land and in Logan’s arms. After all, home is where the heart is.


	26. Putting the 'Fun' in Funeral

You had come straight from the office to the funeral. You wore a black dress in anticipation and intended to return to work after the service. You had chosen a seat off to the side and well away from the family in the front rows.

Your old boss and early-career mentor Greer Delos had passed away after a long illness and you were actually feeling the loss pretty deeply. She had been tough and brilliant but had spent her career in the shadow of her older brother James. He may have had the lead in the company but without Greer, he would have run financially adrift. As it was, you were considering leaving the company that you had spent the last ten years working for because Juliet’s prick husband had been anointed as the next Delos Messiah over the person you believed was the rightful leader, Logan.

Not that you were particularly a fan. Greer had adored him but you got sick of his posturing and general assholery. He had spent the first few months that you worked under his Aunt hitting on you until you had made it crystal clear that you weren’t going to join his parade of paramours; after that, you’d pretty much ignored each other. It was polite out of deference to Greer, but there was a tacit understanding that you were co-workers – and nothing more.

So, naturally you were suspicious when he sat next to you just as the service was about to begin.

“Logan! What are you doing here?” you asked in surprise.

“Ah my beloved Aunt Greer passed away?” he answered sarcastically.

“No, I know that. Jackass,” you whispered. “Why are you sitting by me?”

He shrugged. “Just thought I’d sit by someone who actually cared about her.”

“Oh,” you said. “Guess I’m the jackass in this scenario.”

“That’s very magnanimous of you to admit. Shall we go to my place later and grieve together?” he said while wiggling his eyebrows.

“Ugh. That is the worst pick-up line I have ever heard,” you whispered in disgust. “And I almost treated you like a person for a minute there.”

Logan chuckled. “I hate funerals. I said goodbye to Aunt Greer before she died. She’d hate all of this horseshit.”

“Yeah,” you conceded, “she would hate this. Who planned this ostentatious shitshow? Billy?”

Logan choked back a laugh, then frowned. “That does seem to be his go-to now that he’s CEO,” he said bitterly. “When I hired him he had never had two nickels to rub together. Now I’m surprised he doesn’t wear two Rolexes to show local and Westworld times.”

“Hey, not everyone who grew up poor is a giant asshole,” you grumbled.

“See, you’re so classy I forgot you grew up on a farm or whatever,” he said, surreptitiously pulling a flask out of his pocket.

“Y'know, just because I didn’t grow up in a major metropolis does not actually mean I scraped shit off my boots every day. Are you gonna share or what?”

Logan looked surprised. “Little Miss Perfect is gonna drink at a funeral?”

“Only if it’s Scotch?”

“Of course. Glenlivet,” he said as if there was no other.

“Then it’s really just honoring Greer’s heritage, isn’t it?”

He nodded and handed the flask to you.

“To Greer,” you said and took a swig.

“To Aunt Greer,” he said, following suit.

Just then, a priest stood up and you did Catholic calisthenics for a while, then Jim got up to deliver a eulogy.

Logan groaned and whispered, “Please pass the cyanide, I don’t want to go on living.”

You giggled, making Logan look over at you like he’d never thought to hear such a sound from you.

You shrugged. “You’re funny when you’re not hitting on me,” you whispered.

He made a ‘huh’ kind of face and passed the flask to you again.

When Jim was done talking, there was another hymn and then William headed for the lectern.

“Puke,” you said louder than you intended, causing Logan to snort and a few people in the surrounding pews to look at you darkly. You smiled weakly back and looked down, elbowing Logan like it was his fault.

“Ow,” he hissed. “What was that for?”

“Getting me drunk at a funeral.”

“Honey, if you’re drunk, we need to work on your tolerance.”

“The only reason I’m drinking is to build a tolerance to sitting with you,” you whispered back.

“That hurts,” he mouthed back, placing a hand on his heart.

“Everyone knows there’s nothing there, Delos,” you whispered back. “I think you meant to pat a little lower.”

He snorted again, turning the sound into a cough. 

“God, I hate him,” you muttered as William droned on. “Greer hated him, too.”

“Yeah?” he said as he looked over at you with interest.

“Definitely. She thought he was an imperious little gold digger.”

“No, I know that,” he said with an eyeroll. “I didn’t know you hated him.”

“Yeah. I’m thinking about leaving,” you confided.

“Really?” he said, shocked.

You got another evil eye from people around you so you patted his leg and whispered, “We should talk later.”

“Dinner?” he asked casually.

“Sure.”

* * *

You rode with Logan and Juliet to the cemetery; William *had to* return to work. You stood with Logan in the mausoleum, his behavior better in the smaller group of mourners.

After the priest said the final prayer, you filed back out to the cars. Juliet hugged you goodbye and said she was going to ride back with her Dad. When you got into the car with Logan, he rolled up the partition with a wink and said, “Now we can get down to the William-bashing we’ve both been waiting for.”

“Oh, I thought you were gonna be all smarmy and try to get a sympathy blowie.”

“I would not say no,” he said with a chuckle.

“Now we know what they’ll put on your epitaph.”

Logan barked a laugh and you joined him. 

When you stopped laughing, you grasped his hand and said, “I really am sorry for your loss. I know you’ll feel it more than anyone.”

He nodded. “She was about the last person who thought that William sucked and I should still be in charge. She believed in me.”

“Well, I guess I must be the last, then, because I absolutely believe that the company you put your blood, tears and life into since you were in high school should still be yours. Your Dad is fucking up large by putting William in charge.”

“That why you’re thinking of leaving?”

“Absolutely. Greer trained you more than your Dad, which is probably why you’re actually good at your job.”

Logan looked a little choked up, actually, and didn’t speak for a moment. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “I know you’re not a huge fan of me and we haven’t been close, so I take this as high praise.”

“That’s how I intended it.”

He nodded. “So, have you put out feelers?”

“Nah,” you said with a shake of your head. “Didn’t want word to get back to William.”

“Afraid he’ll fire you?”

“No, I’m afraid he’ll have time to prepare and it won’t fuck him over.”

Once again, Logan looked shocked. “You…really hate him?”

“Let’s just say you aren’t the only one that’s hit on me.”

“William?” he said in surprise. “I thought he only cheated with robots.”

“Oh, this was before Juliet. I would have told her if it was after. I have no issue with telling someone they’re dating a cheater.” You shook your head. “No, this was when he first started. You hit on me and kinda made it seem like a compliment, y'know? But he did it and I felt like leaving work early so I could shower. Ick.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “Or Greer?”

“I told Greer but he really didn’t do anything wrong, y'know?”

“Yeah, he’s good at not quite doing anything wrong. Or at least not getting caught,” he said bitterly.

“That how he pushed you out?” you asked quietly.

He nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. It was some ugly shit.”

You huffed out a breath. “Wish I could do more to screw him over.”

He chuckled and held your hand for a second, giving it a friendly squeeze. “Just knowing that you want to hurt him makes me feel better.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled with him. “Y'know…together, we could be formidable,” you said speculatively.

“Preachin’ to the choir, babe,” he said, pouring himself a drink.

You slapped his arm and said, “Not in bed, you doofus. In business.”

“Can’t it be both?” he defended himself.

“The Magic 8 Ball of my heart says, 'Don’t count on it.’”

“Got a Magic 8 Ball in your panties? Coz I got a Magic 8 for ya,” he said wiggling his eyebrows.

You laughed. You couldn’t help it, he was so utterly silly and magnetic. “Can you back that up? Coz I’m not one of your usual bimbos; I know how rulers work.”

He started to unzip his pants. “Back that ass up and I’ll show you right now,” he said, laughing with you.

You chuckled together for a few moments before you said, “Really didn’t think I’d be laughing with you today.”

Logan smiled softly. “Me either, but I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be with right now. Greer loved you all to hell, y'know? She kept telling me to really ask you out instead of hitting on you like an asshole.”

“What?” you asked, surprised. “She wanted us to get together?”

“Yep,” he drawled before sipping his Scotch. “Sure I can’t get you a drink?”

“No, thank you,” you declined politely and somewhat reluctantly. “Not to sound like Billy, but I should really get back to the office.”

Logan tsked. “Such a killjoy.”

“Who knew you could actually be pleasant company?” you teased with a wink. “I might have taken the afternoon off.”

“Then blow off work,” he coaxed.

You chuckled. “You are such a bad influence.”

He frowned. “I get that a lot.” He threw back the rest of his drink and lowered the partition, then said to the driver, “Back to Delos.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

It had been about three weeks since Greer’s funeral. You had started to call or text Logan more than a few times, but you had no idea what to say to him. To be honest, you had expected him to contact you for dinner since he had asked you so nonchalantly at the church, but since he hadn’t you thought that maybe he was just asking to see what you’d say. If the male of the species was a puzzle to you then Logan was a goddamn sphinx wrapped in a blanket woven of mystery and locked in a safe with an ineffable combination.

Your assistant Gray interrupted your musing with a quick knock and brisk entrance. “You received a registered letter. I thought it was uncommon enough to bring in right away.”

“Probably from a man,” you grumbled as you fished a letter opener out of your desk. “Huh.”

“What is it?” she asked, intrigued by the novel delivery. 

“I have been named as a beneficiary in Greer’s estate, and rather than a copy of the will, she requested an old fashioned reading of the will for all the beneficiaries. Weird.”

“I heard a rumor in the assistant gossip chain that she changed her will not long before she died,” Gray informed you. 

“Huh. Well, I suppose if she wanted me to be there, the least I can do is follow through with one of her last wishes.” You handed her the letter. “Can you please rearrange my calendar for this? Just use some personal time and I’ll take the rest of the day off. You can too, if you want.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “Just for that I won’t spit in your coffee tomorrow.” She gave you a saucy wink.

“But that’s the best part!” you joked.

* * *

The day of the reading arrived and you made certain to arrive at the law office with plenty of time to spare. Knowing the other people who were most likely named in the will, you wanted to make sure to sit with your back to the wall.

Your eyes were still adjusting from the sunshine outside when you heard your name. 

“Logan, hello,” you said with a smile when you saw him waiting by the elevator.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Just can’t stay away from me, huh?”

“I guess not. I’m even crashing a will reading on the outside chance you might be there,” you said sarcastically. “You have no idea how much time I spend in lobbies of law offices hoping to catch sight of you.”

“I knew you wanted me,” he said with a wink.

“You’re utterly incorrigible,” you said with a chuckle as the elevator arrived. 

You had both stepped in and pressed the button for the appropriate floor when you heard, “Hold the elevator, please.”

You recognized the voice and started pressing the door close button rapidly, making Logan snicker. Just as the doors were almost closed, a hand reached in and forced them back open.

“Shit,” you muttered as William stepped into the elevator.

“Oh,” he said, having the good grace to look uncomfortable. “Hello.”

“Bill,” you greeted him semi-politely.

“I’ve been meaning to set a meeting with you,” he said, ignoring Logan completely. “Would you like to grab lunch after this?”

“Sorry, Bill, Logan and I already have plans. Unless you’d like to join us?” you asked politely, wide-eyed and innocent.

William smiled. “Another time,” he said as the elevator opened. 

Both men gestured for you to get off first. “Such gentlemen,” you said sweetly, then linked your arm with Logan and took him with you.

He didn’t question your action but you felt him stiffen under your touch briefly. He leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Protecting me?”

You shivered a bit unintentionally at his warm breath caressing your ear. “Of course not,” you whispered back. “You assured me you’re a big boy, after all.”

“Still ready to prove it whenever you want.”

You simply snickered in response, but you held on to each other all the way to the door, effectively blocking William out.

Logan wasn’t sure what to make of you, honestly. You had shot him down so many times over the years that he assumed that he would never have a chance with you. 

You checked in with the receptionist who assured you that Mr. Smythe would be out to greet you soon.

“Mr. Delos, welcome,” an older gentleman greeted Logan. 

“Richard, good to see you,” Logan said professionally, using his first name to establish dominance. You’d have giggled at their posturing if it wasn’t kind of – hot? 

“And who is this lovely lady?” he asked, looking to you.

Logan introduced you and Richard said, “Oh, of course. We haven’t met but I recognize your name from the will.”

“Yes, I was rather surprised when I received the letter. I was very close to Greer but I didn’t expect to be remembered in her will.”

Richard smiled enigmatically and said, “Let me show you to the conference room where we’ll be reading the will.”

You shared a puzzled look with Logan and followed Richard to a luxurious conference room. There was a credenza with various baked goods and coffee. 

“Coffee?” Logan asked as he went to get himself some.

“Mmm, please,” you said. 

“Not how I fantasized about hearing those words from you, but OK,” he said with a chuckle.

“No mere man can compete with caffeine, Delos,” you said as you accepted your mug of unsweetened divinity. You inhaled the scent of the heavenly roasted beans with your eyes closed.

When you opened your eyes, Logan was still standing in front of you, watching you with a strange look on his face. “You OK?” you asked.

“Huh,” he grunted as if shaking himself from a trance. “Yeah. Coffee.”

“Yeah, seems like you could use some.”

He smirked and went to pour himself a cup, then grabbed a plate of pastries for the two of you. 

“Trying to fatten me up for Thanksgiving dinner?” you asked. 

“I suppose part of what I want to do to you is cannibalism-adjacent,” he said with a naughty grin.

You did a spit take. “Logan!” you said, wiping the table in front of you with a napkin while he laughed at you.

The door opened while he was laughing and of course it was Jim.

“Well, look at you treating the situation with the appropriate fucking solemn attitude.”

“Oh, Jim, lay off him. I spit coffee all over the table, you’d laugh, too,” you scolded.

It never ceased to amaze Logan that you could speak to his Father like he was a little boy and he responded without fail by acting like one. He simply huffed and took a seat close to the head of the table where Richard had placed his portfolio. If the seat hadn’t been claimed, you were certain Jim would have claimed it for himself.

Logan leaned over and whispered, “How do you do that?" 

"I just use the tone Greer always used on him. Works like a charm.”

He snickered and said quietly against your ear, “Now I really wanna fuck you.”

“If you’re trying to get me to spit again, I’m onto you.”

“Spit, swallow, I have no real preference.”

You simply elbowed him this time, not giving him anything else to work with.

“Party pooper,” he whispered as a few more people straggled in.

You stood to greet Juliet with a hug, nodded to William and smiled hello at a few close friends of Greer’s that you had met over the years. When Richard returned and sat down at the head of the table, everyone became silent. 

“Excellent, everyone was able to make it,” he said with a smile that indicated that he had no doubt that everyone would appear. “Greer had a few wishes for the division of her estate and how her beneficiaries would be notified. So first, we’ll begin with her loyal friends and employees…”

A while later, after he had read her kind words and generous inheritances to her employees that had been loyal for decades and friends who had been with her for as long, he excused them and said he’d be in contact soon.

You felt strange when you were the only person left that wasn’t related to Greer. Even William was technically family, but other than the two of you and Richard there was only Jim, Juliet and Logan.

“And this is where Greer made a video to very clearly state her wishes for the rest of her estate,” he said as he pressed buttons on a remote to lower the blinds, darken the room and reveal a projector and screen.

As Greer’s image took shape, you reached over and grasped Logan’s hand in yours, both to comfort and for comfort.

“Hello, all. Don’t worry, Jim, I’m really gone. This isn’t an elaborate ruse to get you back for all the dumbass pranks you played on me when we were young. Though that would be a hoot, I’m really dead.

"I want the five of you to know that my will is ironclad. Some of you will be displeased with the division of my assets, but I remind you all that they were my assets to do with what I choose. Richard has had an entire team working on this for years, so don’t waste a lot of effort trying to undo it.

"Jim, I’m leaving my art collection with you. A lot of it was purchased when we were younger and closer and took business trips together. I hope that you can look on them and think of happy times we spent together when we were young and still close.

"Juliet, my darling, I love you so much. I am leaving you and Emily all of my jewelry with the exception of my ruby and diamond ring that I purchased on one of my last trips for the company.

"William,” she said, and hesitated enough to make him lean forward with a look of avarice on his face. “I’m leaving you my house in Vernier. I know how much you enjoy skiing.”

William leaned back, a look of shock on his face. He had clearly hoped that he would receive Greer’s shares in Delos, Inc. if only through Juliet.

“I’m afraid that this is the part that you won’t appreciate, James and William, but let me reiterate that my will is entirely inflexible and unwavering. 

"Logan, my wonderful, sweet boy,” she said fondly. “I couldn’t love you more if you were my own son. I see all the kindness and goodness in you and I hope that you find someone to love who sees that in you, too.”

You heard a suspicious sniff from Logan and scooted your chair closer to his, still holding his hand but wanting to offer him more comfort if you could.

“I’m leaving the rest of my homes and their furnishings not specifically listed for someone else to you. I don’t expect you to keep them all, but I hope that at least one of them will give you a sense of home that I think that you need to be happy. 

"Additionally, all of the stock that is in my name for Delos, Inc. is to be transferred to Logan Delos. That should come to just about 32% of the shares. Logan should have been named CEO when you retired, Jamie, but since you saw fit to hand the reins to William,” she said angrily, “I’m putting what power I can into Logan’s hands." 

She looked as if she had to compose herself before she continued, saying your name. "My darling girl,” she said fondly. “I tried so hard not to show my favoritism openly.” You made a hiccuping sob noise that had Logan pulling his hand from yours to put his arm around you. “I had hoped that you and Logan would find each other romantically,” you peeked over to see Logan looking at you, “but that was just an old lady’s foolish hope for you to find what I never did. Don’t let work become your life, dear. I did and I regret it. 

"I want you to have the ring that I purchased when we went on that trip to Vienna when you were a youngster. Do you remember? I tried to buy it for you because you loved it so much, but you wouldn’t let me. Well, it seems I won that argument. Bet you didn’t realize how good of a long game I could play, huh?” she said with a wink, causing you to give a watery giggle.

“That concludes the sentimental portion of the show,” she said in a hard voice. “Here’s where it gets interesting, folks. I spent the last few years buying up Delos stock here and there. It began with a desire to keep control within the family while you were off trying to grow the business as fast as you possibly could without thought to what would happen if control were gained by all of the new investors.

"So, Richard and I began a few corporations, perfectly legally, though I’m sure you’ll check, Jamie. When we found someone selling Delos stock, we purchased it through one of the holding companies. It wasn’t done with an eye to controlling the company because I never thought that it would become necessary. But, since most people in business are suspicious in nature, my name was not on the corporation.

"But then there was William. Juliet, darling, I hope he is a more ethical husband than businessman. I simply cannot fathom why you think he’s the best person to lead Delos, James.

"So, in addition to the Ruby ring from that trip, I leave to you, my most trusted employee and friend, all of these holding companies and the Delos stock shares that they own, as well as a cash sum that will enable you to do with them what you will. They should amount to just under 19% of the shares.” There was a collective gasp as it became clear that she had bequeathed to you an immense gift with great responsibility.

“Richard will give you all copies of the will and all of the titles and documentation to transfer the properties to your names. Goodbye. To those of you who grieve for me, find comfort in each other.”

The screen went dark and then Richard slowly brought the lights up.

“Well, ye can be damn certain I’ll be contesting this,” James said.

Richard smiled. “Greer thought as much. Which is why she had attorneys from other firms proofread and look for loopholes. I think you’ll find it to be airtight.”

James got up and left, followed by William and Juliet, leaving you and Logan alone and thunderstruck.

Richard got to his feet. “I’ll leave the two of you to process for a few minutes.”

You nodded at him and he stepped out of the room and closed the door.

Neither of you spoke for a moment, lost in thought.

Then Logan whispered, “Y'know, together we could be formidable.”

You turned to look at him thoughtfully, then leaned forward and whispered when your lips were almost touching, “Preachin’ to the choir, babe,” then you both smiled as your lips met.


	27. A Good Walk Spoiled

“That can’t be right,” you said with a pleasant smile. “We registered together as a foursome months ago. We do this every year.”

“I’m sorry, ma'am,” the perky redhead with the giant bosoms and low-cut top said with a saccharine-sweet smile. “But people are waiting to sign in. And it’s for the kids, right? Can’t you just go with your assigned group?”

You matched her smile and raised her a chuckle. “Oh, Stella?” you said, tilting your head to read her name badge, “I would really rather play with my registered group.”

“Welll!! This just got really interesting.” You stiffened when you heard your nemesis say your name just before he dropped his arm casually around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “Don’t be a spoilsport! It’s for the kids!”

_Delos._

You politely stepped away from him, still wearing the smile that would make a shark swim the other way. “Mr. Delos, what a surprise,” you said in a monotone.

“Good surprise?” Logan asked with a smile.

“More like a ‘sitting-in-chocolate-in-light-colored-pants-so-it-looks-like-you-shit-yourself’ kind of surprise,” you bit out between gritted teeth as you plucked his hand from your shoulder with two fingers.

“Now, that’s not very nice,” Logan said with an exaggerated frown. “We used to be friends. Who hurt youuuuuu?”

You were at a charity golf outing that you attended with your company every year for the last ten years, since you started out in middle management after college. You suspected at the time that they hired you because you had gone to college on a golf scholarship. They had put you on every golf foursome that the company participated in throughout the year since, confirming your suspicions.

But you had proven your worth within the company beyond your golf skills. You had started out in middle management but you were now a Junior Vice President in Human Resources. You traveled all over the world finding the best and brightest young minds to bring on board in your company. You logged more travel hours than damn near anyone in the company, the more senior recruiters spending more time scouting local talent. 

And lately, a lot of your new hires were being poached by Delos, Inc.

And it was your new hires specifically. Delos would poach them, have them break their contracts and NDAs, pay the fines and work for them. Delos had been spending a ridiculous amount of money to steal your new hires and the only reason you could think of was the fact that you had kept Logan Delos at arm’s length.

And now he had somehow managed to get you into his foursome.

“Mr. Delos, I doubt you would recognize 'nice’ if it jumped up and bit you on your skinny little ass,” you hissed angrily, snatching your information packet from the Oh-So-Helpful Stella and stomping away.

Logan watched you walk away, puzzled as he had been for the last several times he had seen you. Until then, you had been friendly and even a little flirty with him. He had known you for a while from the golf outings your respective companies participated in and he had perversely befriended you because his Father complained about the 'ringer’ that your boss had hired.

But after a while he had really started to like you as a person. He had gotten clean and was working with a different division within Delos and thought he might ask you out, see if he could have something real since he was seeing the world through sober eyes.

And just as he had worked up the nerve to ask you, suddenly every time he came near you, you started hissing and spitting like an angry, wet cat.

He had gone for broke and sweet-talked the event organizer into putting the two of you into a random foursome for people who didn’t have a full team. 

So far things were going great.

* * *

_How dare he? He went out of his way to poach my hires and still had the nerve to flirt with me?_

You were fuming as you got your clubs and went to wait for your tee time and seethe. 

Logan fucking Delos. You felt so foolish over the crush you’d been nursing for him for absolute ages. You knew now that he had been playing some cruel game with you, but you had really thought that he liked you. Before his campaign to ruin your career, that is.

“Um,” your boss’s boss growled, “what the fuck are you doing in another foursome, young lady?”

Fuck. You needed this like you needed cramps right about now. “Mr. O'Dowd, I assure you this was not my idea,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you’re in with that Delos mongrel,” he said nastily. “I hired you to further my company’s interests with your golf game, not to further your own interests with your pussy.”

You gasped. “I beg your pardon,” you hissed. 

And then the worst possible thing happened: Logan jumped in. 

“That’s just not good business, Mickey,” Logan drawled obnoxiously. “Talk like that could make an employee jump ship.”

“Defending your whore, Delos? Noble,” he sneered, looking you over. “Maybe I should have had her on her knees instead of a golf course.”

You were absolutely livid. You almost,  _almost_  quit on the spot.

But you weren’t old money like Delos and O'Dowd. You couldn’t do something that irresponsible; you needed your job.

“Mr. O'Dowd, I had nothing to do with my foursome assignment.”

“We’ll see about this on Monday,” he said before turning and walking away.

“Why are you kissing his ass?” Logan asked, incredulous.

You turned on him and whisper-shouted, “Because I’m not a trust fund baby who can tell the world to get fucked and live off my investment income. I have to work for a living. Now, leave me alone.”

* * *

Logan realized that he had done more harm than good with his big mouth. His sister would probably add, “As usual,” to that statement. How was he supposed to know that your bosses apparently didn’t appreciate your for any more than what he considered to be one of your least interesting qualities?

He found himself far more interested in your wicked sense of sarcasm; the bite to your humor was a welcome departure from women who chased him for his looks or his money. You were smart, funny, independent, sexy and gorgeous. And yeah, you shot a mean game of golf. You almost always scored better than him and never, ever played from the ladies tee.

“Trouble in paradise?” a voice he had come to loathe purred happily.

Logan turned and smiled at his brother-in-law. “Go fuck yourself, William. Don’t you have a robot to seduce?”

William’s smile faltered but he soldiered on; he didn’t get that many opportunities to taunt Logan without his wife nearby these days; Logan avoided him like the plague. “Maybe you should have stuck with someone who couldn’t say no. Looks like the real thing is giving you some trouble.”

Logan shrugged and went in for the kill. “I had your darling Dolores every way imaginable, Billy. She got boring in a hurry.” Then he turned and walked away, leaving William to grind his teeth in inexpressible rage.

* * *

Your tee time was fast approaching. The other two people in your foursome were a married couple and so you were stuck with Logan.

It was a chilly partnership. Logan attempted to talk to you, ask how you had been and such, but you had no time for his games. As far as you were concerned he was a duplicitous snake with the sex drive of a dolphin and the moral fiber of a celery stick from a Bloody Mary. 

You were at the seventh hole and Logan gotten tired of your silence and started down the edge of the fairway after he drove. You were so angry and frustrated that you couldn’t have played your best game had you wanted, but you certainly didn’t want to do anything else to tweak your boss’s nose. 

But, that didn’t mean that you appreciated Logan’s lack of decorum. The beers that you had been chugging had nothing to do with your decision to get some revenge of the juvenile variety.

You set your ball on the tee and took careful aim and crack, which was followed soon by a loud scream of, “MOTHERFUCKER!”

Logan felt excruciating pain in his ass, far worse than the pain of being shot in Westworld, so he was actually concerned that he’d really been shot. He looked behind himself but saw no blood from the painful area. What he did see, however, was one of the distinctive golf balls that you played lying in the grass.

Logan plucked the evidence from the ground and stormed back up the fairway to you, anger fairly radiating from him.

“I can’t believe you fucking shot me!” he railed, showing you the ball like he had the magic bullet from the JFK assassination.

“Did I do that?” you said in your best Urkel voice.

“This is a joke to you? You could have killed me!” he said in a progressively louder voice until he was shouting at the end.

“Pfft please,” you dismissed him. “I hit you right where I meant to.”

Logan was taken aback. “Really? You can shoot that precisely?”

“Yes,” you snapped.

“Well, when my ass stops hurting I’ll probably find that hot, but for now, what the fuck did I do to piss you off enough to shoot me?”

“Oh, ya big baby, I tapped you with a golf ball.”

“I’m gonna get a giant bruise on my fabulous ass and I will be taking daily pictures and sending them to you.”

“Remind me to block your number.”

“ _Why_ ,” Logan bit out, “did you shoot me?”

You decided to match his tone. “ _Why_  did you poach my new hires?” you snapped back.

Either Logan was an amazing actor or you had just shot the wrong person in the ass. “What are you talking about?”

“I hired twenty seven top-notch employees last year. Excellent salary and bonus package, contract and standard NDAs signed, and before some of them even reported for work, they quit their jobs.” You narrowed your eyes before going on. “Where do you think they went to work?”

“Delos?” he asked quietly.

“Wow, first try!” you said with sarcastic enthusiasm. “And every single goddamn one of the employees Delos stole were my hires. None of the new employees from other recruiters were stolen. So I gotta ask myself, do I know anyone at Delos? Why yes, yes I do!”

“I didn’t do this,” Logan said quietly. 

“Then who did? Who else in Delos would have it in for me specifically?” you hissed. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. 

“What?”

“I think I know someone who would do it. Not because he hates you, but because he hates me and he knows that I –” he stopped abruptly and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“What does he know, Logan?” you asked sharply.

Logan winced slightly. This was definitely not how he planned on telling you. “He knows that I really like you. I dunno if my sister told him or what, but he just taunted me about you before we started.”

“Who,  _Bill?”_  you asked incredulously. “He is the most innocuous person I’ve ever vaguely remembered meeting, you want me to believe he’s capable of this?”

Logan chuckled bitterly. “Sweetheart, you have no idea what that 'innocuous’ man is capable of until it’s over and done with.” He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to push the memories back.

“Mind if we play through?” one of the people in the group behind you called.

You looked at Logan for a moment and saw the sincerity and trauma in his eyes. “Catch me,” you said, slumping forward and into his arms.

Logan swept you into his arms and carried you over to the cart. “Good thing I’m not a weak junkie anymore. You’re heavier than you look.”

“Bite me, I actually eat food, unlike the models you usually date,” you muttered without moving your lips, pretending to be in a faint.

“Was that an invitation?” he asked pleasantly as he started the cart and headed back to the clubhouse, then said louder, “I’ll get you to the clubhouse, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” you moaned.

“Well, now I’ve got a semi,” he whispered.

“Shut it, pervert. Still not convinced it wasn’t you,” you whispered.

“Then why swoon dramatically into my loving embrace?”

You pretended to drag yourself to a seated position, though still leaning against Logan. He smelled fantastic, like sandalwood, the outdoors and man – and it was sexy as fuck.

The bastard. He could at least be a stinky golfer.

“I swooned because we were making a spectacle of ourselves and I can’t have that. Better that people think that I have heat stroke than make a scene, especially since I’m probably going to be looking for a new job on Monday,” you said, bitter and scared. 

“C'mon, Mickey won’t fire you for the foursome thing, will he?” he asked hesitantly.

You shook your head. “You really don’t know what it’s like to be normal, not to have everything handed to you, do you? I’m not being a bitch, just…people like you just play with people’s lives. 

"I know why they hired me; they hired me because I was nationally ranked and could have gone pro. They wanted me to win golf tournaments, and I have. But I also worked my ass off and got promoted on my own merit.

"And now I’m probably going to lose my job because your brother-in-law found out you liked me. I mean…you guys are playing with my life.” Logan pulled up to the clubhouse and you hopped out of the cart and grabbed your clubs. “Thanks for the rescue. Can I use you as a reference for when I’m looking for a new job?”

You didn’t wait for an answer before you turned and walked back to the parking lot and to your car. 

* * *

It was Monday morning and you were a wreck. You had spent the rest of the weekend stewing over all that had happened at the tournament, and the more you thought, the angrier you became. By Sunday afternoon you had made a decision.

You were walking through the hallway of the executive floor, on your way to O'Dowd’s office. You expected to be called to the carpet sooner or later and you decided that you preferred sooner. 

You sailed past his assistant, who whisper-yelled that you couldn’t go in, opened the door and found O'Dowd in his office, not at his desk but putting on a raised green. Of course.

He looked up at you in surprise as he missed his putt. “I haven’t called for you yet.”

“I thought I’d save you the trouble,” you said, walking over to hand him an envelope. “I’m resigning my position. I will be happy to give two weeks notice but after the events of this weekend I rather thought you’d prefer I leave today?”

O'Dowd stalked over to try and intimidate you but you stood your ground. “We hired you when no one else would have and now you want to quit? Gonna go work for Delos? That it?”

You inhaled sharply at his implication. “Mr. O'Dowd, I don’t know where you got the idea that I had no other job offers when I got out of college. Yours wasn’t even the most lucrative. I accepted this position because it was within my chosen field. Now I think it’s best that we part ways.” You held out your hand for him to shake, but of course he refused. 

“I want you out of this building, now.”

You nodded. “Goodbye, Mr. O'Dowd. Thank you for the opportunity to learn.”

You turned and walked away, closing the door to his office gently behind you. You had emptied your belongings from your office already, surprised that they had all fit into a printer paper box. Ten years of your life should fill a bigger box, but maybe deep inside you’d always known that this place wasn’t your future.

You picked up the box when you turned the corner, feeling lighter than you had in years. 

You stepped into the elevator, smiling at the few people you knew as they came and went. No one asked about the box; it was pretty self-explanatory. You simply rode down to the lobby so that you could turn in your badge at the security desk and go home.

When the doors opened, you heard a loud voice demanding to see Mr. O'Dowd.  _Bad idea, buddy,_  you thought as you headed over to the security desk.

“Get him on the phone and tell him that I’m not leaving until he  _fucking_  sees me!” Logan growled.

You were shocked to see him there. Had he come to try and make things right? “I’m afraid he’s not in a very good mood today, Logan,” you said softly, enjoying the look of surprise when he spun around and saw you behind him, box in hand and smile on your face.

“Did that son – did he fire you? I – look, I have proof that Billy poached your new hires, and I’ll tell him that it was my fault at the tournament,” he said urgently. “Please, I can fix this.”

You shook your head. You had come to the conclusion that Logan’s only fault was the tournament, and that was only because he apparently returned the feelings you had been tamping down for a couple of years. “I quit.”

“You quit? I thought you needed this job and I was a bad person for messing with your life?” he asked, confused.

You made a scrunchy face and said, “Yeah, I’m sorry I said that. Larry,” you said, addressing the security guard, “my badge is on top of the box, can you grab it?”

“Are you leaving us?” he asked sadly.

“Yeah,” you drawled. “I decided if I was going to work somewhere for my golf skills it might as well be official. I’m going to work as a golf pro at a country club.”

“Good for you,” he said. “Take care of yourself.”

“You, too,” you said warmly. “Now, Mr. Delos, your influence wasn’t enough to get in to see Mickey, but maybe you can get us some brunch reservations?”

He smiled. “Only if you let me carry that box.”

You grinned back as you handed him the box. “I think that’s the absolute least you can do for turning my life upside down, Delos.”

Logan looked down. “About that…”

“Yeah, about that. How about we discuss how much I appreciate it over brunch? Then maybe we can talk about these mutual feelings over dinner?”

He looked back up and grinned. “Works for me,” he said happily. 

“What are we waiting for? I have a decade of misery to make up for, a life to enjoy and a very handsome man to get to know better.”

“Let’s go,” he said. “You meant me, right?”

You laughed and linked your arm through his as you stepped out into the sunlight and slid your sunnies on. “Yeah, I meant you, Logan. We both have some shit years behind us. Let’s go see what the future brings.”


End file.
